Halloween Unspectacular
by E350
Summary: Thirty-One Days. Thirty-One Doodles. Join us, as we count down to All Hallows Eve! Ratings and genres may vary, requests will be considered.
1. 01 10 10: A CHALLENGE!

Hmm...I've just remembered what month it is. XD

Well, I've issued myself a challenge, described below. That's pretty much all I have to say, wish me luck!**  


* * *

**

**Halloween Unspectacular**

**1 (well, technically the 2****nd**** by now, but still)/10/10 – A CHALLENGE!**

The room was unlit, save for a small candle on the table. There was a rank smell in the air, and cobwebs hung lazily over the walls.

A short man, grinning as he leant over the candle, gave a short guffaw.

"Yes," he snarled, "Yes, it's all going to plan! On this night, _All Hallows Eve_, I shall summon from the underworld enough power to conquer the entire internet!"

He gave a grin.

"Yes, I can see it now!" he laughed, "First Fanfiction, then the _WORLD! AHAHAHA…_"

"What are you doing?"

Danny walked into the room, switching on the light as he did.

Plankton stared at him for a few seconds.

"Err…hello," he said, meekly.

"OK, first of all, it's not Halloween, its October the First," explained Danny, "Second of all, why are you summoning the evils of the underworld in the _reviewing room?_ Lastly, where'd you get all these cobwebs from? And what's that _smell?"_

Danny wrinkled his nose.

"Its incense," shrugged Plankton.

"Get out of here!" snapped Danny, pointing to the door.

"Very well, buffoon," nodded Plankton, "But _be afraid!_ Fanfiction will burn to the ground!"

"_OUT!"_

Rather dejectedly, Plankton made his way to the door.

* * *

Shortly after this, Danny, Sam and Tucker were seated at the review table.

"Hey guys," greeted Danny, "If you're wondering where E350 is, he's weeping in the bathroom over his past works."

"We're here to introduce the Halloween Spectacular," explained Sam, "It's this challenge E350's issued himself with to write something 'Halloween-ish every day this month."

"We think he's gonna fail, but what can you do?" shrugged Tucker.

"Anyway, we're supposed to introduce a contest for anyone who might be interested," continued Danny, "The challenge is simple – by October 31st, produce four oneshots related to Halloween, horror, whatever. Why four? Because each of those oneshots has to be related to a specific word. These words will be released one a week for four weeks."

"That first one is 'Curse," stated Sam.

"The next one will be given out next Friday," finished Tucker, "You don't have to have the first oneshot done by then – they're all due at the same time. We recommend putting them all in the same story as individual chapters, but how you put them up is up to you."

"Good luck, and keep watching this fic," nodded Danny, "Any suggestions are welcomed. Thanks, and goodnight!"


	2. 02 10 10: Ideas

'Kay, so far so good. He's a random drabble about ideas and world conquest. A cookie to whoever gets what historical figures I mention in the first few lines.

Review Replies;

**Movie-Brat:** Good idea, I'll see (I'm not too good on Freddy's charactisation). Thanks for reading!

**Clockwork Oracle King:** There's no restrictions to where you put it. If intend to use more then one fandom, though (say Fandom A in oneshot one, Fandom B in oneshot two), I'd recommend you put it here. Anyway, thanks for reading!

**Cartooniac55:** DEATH TO WRITERS BLOCK! :D Thanks for the review.  
**

* * *

2/10/10 – Ideas**

Most things start with an idea.

Many ideas come in bizarre ways.

It could come from an apple, drooping from a tree. Said apple could land on a man's head and inspire him to write several long-winded theories about how apples fall on heads.

It could come from a war, a really nasty, terrible war. A war to drive a man to bitter vengeance, to drag a continent into the abyss of another.

It could come from something as simple as a computer.

Finbarr Calamitous had a new computer. It was a laptop, a contraption all the way from Japan with many bizarre and high-tech features. The only thing it seemed to lack was solitaire.

As the professor dug through the files for the game without success, he accidentally poured his espresso onto the contraption. Cursing quietly as the computer fizzled out, he opened it up to look at the motherboard.

This _was_ advanced, he noted. The computer's entire processing power, everything it used to function, all of it's intelligence and data – all were fitted into a tiny cube, about the size of a six-side dice.

Calamitous scratched his chin, an idea formulating in his head.

It was time to go out.

* * *

The Napoleon Bonaparte Annual World Conquerors Meet was being held not far from Calamitous' lab. The professor could easily find a few…likeminded individuals…to help him with his new scheme.

Dr. Insano was willing to help, which surprised Calamitous. Then again, nobody really knew what went on in _his_ head.

A few other lieutenants were found – Plankton, Monty Burns, Ember, some guy named General Katana – and to these Calamitous explained his ideas.

That night, they broke into the lab of Dr. Robotnik and stole some plans, technical drawings, whatever could be useful. He wouldn't miss them – well, he would, but they'd be long gone when he found out he'd been robbed.

Then, Plankton's own lab, they began their plan.

* * *

The media picked it up early the next morning. An anonymous tip informed a local newspaper of a concert by one Ember McLain, to be held in the Dimmsdale Dimmadome on Friday night. This is being her comeback after being missing for nearly a year, the news spread like wildfire around the world. Media coverage was arranged, and a global 'Ember' craze started again.

At the same time, the Chum Bucket started a contest, giving out free tickets to the concert in random meals. It was a successful promotion – sure, the food was terrible, but a free show is a free show.

The Springfield Nuclear Power Plant quickly established itself as the biggest sponsor of the show. Mr. Burns invested millions into the show, attracting great interest…and increased hype. Burns gave multiple and often bombastic press conferences, which were even seen by people with no interest in music.

All this time, General Katana skulked around Calamitous' lab saying incoherent gibberish about something called Zeist.

Friday night quickly came. The concert had sold out quickly and the Dimmadome was full. Despite multiple attempts by Danny Phantom to disrupt the preparations, forcing the Guys in White and M.E.R.F. to establish a perimeter around the area, the first thirty minutes were a success.

About thirty-one minutes into the concert, Dr. Insano joined the maintenance crew under the stage. He delicately attached a small cubical device to a wire extending from the boom box. Giving an insane chuckle, he turned it on.

* * *

It was two minutes later when anyone noticed anything wrong. Around the world, millions of people simply stopped what they were doing, stood up and started staring into space.

Their eyes began to glow a blood red as the device took hold of them. All the people at the concert, all the people watching at home, all the people who had visited the Chum Bucket, all the people who had watched Burns' conferences…they began to change.

Calamitous watched the changing people and their panicking friends and onlookers from a hotel balcony overlooking the Retroville Park. He gave a grin, and began to laugh.

The change ended, and two hundred million enslaved robots set to work, rounding up the people around them, engaging the local police with ease.

As chaos washed over the streets, Calamitous finished laughing and took a sip from his espresso. To think, this had all started from a computer and an idea.

* * *

About two months later, a war between flesh and steel was ongoing. It seemed like the end of the world…and according to some, it was really, really awesome.

The robots, commanded by Calamitous and his 'league of evil', seemed unstoppable.

Sandy Cheeks was in her lab. She wasn't alone – most of the remaining population of Bikini Bottom were hiding in here while the army and robots fought it out outside.

The squirrel still had no counter for the robots, no way to beat them. They had no equal.

Then it hit her. _Equal_. Send a thief to catch a thief – send a robot to catch a robot.

An idea came into her head…

* * *

I rather enjoy writing in this sort-of disconnected style. What do you think?

Also, the ending is supposed to be open for interpritation. Any ideas on how this would end?


	3. 03 10 10: After Action Report

This sort of just came out. Enjoy!

Review replies;

**Clockwork Oracle King:** Interesting. The main rub there, of course, is that the Decepticons might just join the league of evil...but then, they might make a truce. Good consideration! Thanks for reading!

**Movie-Brat:** Alright, if you can give me a bit of help with it, I'll see what I can do! Thanks for reviewing.

**Cartooniac55: **You got both of the historical people right! :D Again, good consideration for the ending (I hope Sandy doesn't try to get both the Autobots _and_ the Decepticons. XD) Thanks for the review.

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** I'm glad you liked it. I feel that's something evil villains might do, have a convention for no reason...and Napoleon is too awesome for him not to the namesake! Thanks very much!  
**

* * *

03/10/10 – After Action Report**

_On the 31__st__ of May, 2011, a small hotel in New York was cordoned off by the New York Police Department for six hours. The Government had since claimed that it was a hostage situation, and that Special Forces salvaged the situation._

_The following is for the eyes of officers OS-6 or higher stationed at Fort Wessex only._

**

* * *

Lieutenant [CLASSIFIED] (IN): **I understand you were in command of the Special Forces team charged with 'freeing the hostages?'

**Sergeant Daniel J. Fenton (DF):** I hope so. You sent me.

**IN:** Of course. I'd like to congratulate you on the success of that me-

**DF:** Can we can the charade, sir? We all know that that was no hostage situation.

**IN:** Your point has been made sergeant. Your team was infiltrated by helicopter at 1300 hours. Did you notice anything particularly odd at that point in time?

**DF:** No sir. It was pretty standard. Y'know, breach the door and storm the conference room – apprehend all subjects. That's what we were trained to do.

**IN:** What went wrong, sergeant?

**DF:** Well, we followed all orders – nobody was in the conference room. We spread out across the floor – still no-one. It was…kinda creepy.

**IN:** So what did you do?

**DF:** We eventually found some sort of…secret passage in the manager's room. It led downstairs, under the building. I left Deville behind and led the other two of my team down. It smelt…off.

**IN:** Describe?

**DF: **Well, you know what dolphins smell like?

**IN:** No. No I don't.

**DF: **Well…it smelt sorta like that, anyway. The further down we got, we found it got damper and wetter. The walls stopped being made of brick and started being…stone, I guess.

**IN:** You guess?

**DF:** The colour was off. It was this lime green, but it wasn't mossy.

**IN:** There _are_ rocks like that, you know.

**DF: **Yeah, but in New York.

**IN:** Point taken.

**DF: **As I was saying, we eventually got to an underground foyer. It was some sort of lab…a really, really messed up lab. There was a small underground lake and a few…what do I call 'em…MiBs? Was the FBI doing anything funny lately?

**IN:** Not on that block.

**DF:** …

**IN:** Is there a problem?

**DF:** No, just…never mind. Anyway, these MiBs were manning some tanks and…there were people in the tanks. The hotel guests, I think.

**IN:** Medical status?

**DF:** They were all unconscious. Anyway, this woman comes up…might have been in her early twenties, brunette, average size and build…

**IN:** This is an interview, not America's Top Model, sergeant.

**DF:** I know, just…thought you'd need to know that. Y'know, in case we need to seek her out or something?

**IN:** Continue.

**DF: **Err, yeah, OK. I sent Tucker back up while me and Sa-Corporal Manson continued overwatch. The woman took one of her prisoners out – I didn't get a good look at him, he had this stupid little pink hat – and dunked him in the lake. She was holding him down, we thought she was drowning him…we acted.

**IN: **How many MiBs?

**DF:** Ten.

**IN:** A bit stupid taking on ten people with just two of you.

**DF:** We couldn't just let him die!...sir.

**IN: **Understood, sergeant.

**DF: **In the event, our training paid off. All ten went down, neither of us was wounded. I moved in to arrest the woman and save the kid. And that's…that's where I failed.

**IN: **You didn't fail, serge-

**DF:** I DID! …I did. I-I should have just capped the [PROFANITY REMOVED], but I figured you'd want more…more then just a body for show. Corporal Manson went to…to save the boy and…well, he didn't wanna be saved.

**IN:** Had he been threatened? Conditioned, maybe?

**DF:** I don't know. He just…came out. His skin was…you know a diving suit, it was like that. His teeth were sharp and…that [PROFANITY REMOVED]…that fu-

**IN:** Do not blame yourself, sergeant.

**DF:** But I could've done something! Anything, anything other then just stare like an idea as that…that thing…dragged Sam under and…and…I could've done _ANYTHING!_

**IN: **…

**DF: **But I…I just watched. It-it took all my willpower to bring that [PROFANITY REMOVED] in alive…I just wanted to cap her right there and then.

**IN:** You did the right thing. Ms. 'Doombringer' is providing valuable intelligence about her plans…wether she wants to or not, may I add.

**DF:** I know, but…damn, it would've been better if she'd died…if…if Sam had just died…

**IN: **We'll work out a way to reverse the condition, sergeant. Corporal Manson can be cured.

**DF:** You're just saying that.

**IN: **…

**DF: **May I go now?

**IN:** Dismissed, Danny.

_

* * *

Addendum: Ms. Doombringer confessed to using quote-unquote 'magic' in her experiments, to 'get a feel' for the 'power' and to 'create her own army.' She has apparently been operating for many months, but no additional 'fish zombies' have been found._

_This leads to concern…where are they now?

* * *

_I hope they don't count this as script format. It's more of an after action report of an interview - you know, like the police do?


	4. 04 10 10: You Have Died of Dysentery

Guess what I was playing!

This may not qualify for a Cartoon Crossover, as it's all Spongebob save for a cameo by Danny, but...yeah.

Review replies;

**Movie-Brat:** Trixie Tang comes to mind. I'll think of some others. Thanks for reading!

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** Wow, I wrote something like H. P. Lovecraft! Awesome! XD Thanks for reviewing.  
**

* * *

04/10/10 – You Have Died Of Dysentery**

_August 1, 1848_

_You started down the trail with 20 oxen, 12 sets of clothing, 600 bullets, 2 wagon wheels, 2 wagon axles, 2 wagon tongues, 2000 pounds of food, and $560.00._

Spongebob threw the last of the two-hundred pounds of food onto the back of the wagon and climbed on.

"Well, here we go!" he grinned.

"Why do we have twenty oxen?" demanded Squidward.

"So that they don't get lonely, of course!" replied Patrick, brightly.

"…riiight, if nobody minds, I'm going to sleep until we get to Oregon," groaned Squidward.

_

* * *

August 4, 1848_

_Patrick was bitten by a snake._

"OW!" cried Patrick, rubbing his leg as the snake slithered out of the wagon.

"Patrick!" snapped Squidward, "We're not one hundred miles out of town! How did you get bitten?"

"Am I gonna die?" asked Patrick, shuddering.

Sandy inspected the wound.

"I don't think so," she shrugged, "Looks like it's a scratch."

"Even if it weren't, lad," grinned Mr. Krabs, "Whoever heard of anyone dying of snakebite?"

_

* * *

August 6, 1848_

_Patrick died of a snakebite._

Mr. Krabs solemnly said a few words he had written on the back of a napkin as Sandy and Squidward buried the large pink starfish.

"We shall always remember Patrick," sighed Mr. Krabs, "Who joined us on our epic quest to Oregon…and died after one-hundred and two miles."

Spongebob sniffled loudly.

"I can't say what would have happened if he had lived," continued Mr. Krabs, "Maybe he would have made the first thousand miles. All I know is that I now owe Squidward twenty bucks, as Patrick did, in fact, die first."

"_Mr. Krabs!_" gasped Spongebob, horrified.

"What, who'd you think would die first?" asked Mr. Krabs.

"Squidward."

"Hey!" snapped Squidward.

_

* * *

August 10, 1848_

_You have reached the Big Blue River Crossing. You decided to rest for 2 days._

"Why are we stopping?" demanded Squidward, as the others set up tents, "We're crossing the _Rocky Mountains!_ If we keep stopping like this, we'll be there in the middle of winter!"

"He's got a point," nodded Sandy.

"Ye worry too much, Mr. Squidward!" grinned Mr. Krabs, "There's nothing wrong with crossing the Rockies in winter."

"You mean _apart_ from sub-zero temperatures, icy cliffs of doom and impassable snowdrifts?"

"…yeah, _apart _from that," snapped Mr. Krabs, "We'll be fine."

_

* * *

August 15, 1848_

_You've lost the trail._

"Welcome to Nantucket," read Spongebob, reading the wooden sign next to the track.

"We're all gonna die," moaned Squidward.

_

* * *

September 9, 1848_

_You have reached Fort Laramie. You decided to rest for 7 days._

"Mr. Krabs, I thought I told you…" began Squidward, as Mr. Krabs got out of the wagon.

"Shut up, there's poker here," snapped Mr. Krabs, walking away.

_

* * *

September 23, 1848_

_Sandy was bitten by a snake. You decided to rest for 5 days._

Sandy nursed her arm.

"It was a Banded Water Snake," she protested, "It's not even poisonous!"

"We're not taking any chances," replied Spongebob, "Not after what happened to Patrick."

"May I remind you that winter is coming?" shot Squidward.

"Mr. Krabs says we'll be fine."

"Mr. Krabs cuddles his money at night," snapped Squidward, "I hardly think we should be listening to him."

There was a brief silence.

"Never mind," sighed Squidward, sitting down at the back of the wagon.

_

* * *

October 3, 1848_

_Sandy is well again._

_

* * *

October 12, 1848_

_Squidward has the measles._

"I have a serious illness," croaked Squidward, his skin covered in unsightly spots, "Can we stop?"

"No," snapped Mr. Krabs.

_

* * *

October 15, 1848_

_You had a wagon tongue break but were able to replace it from supplies._

"See," grinned Mr. Krabs, looking at his handiwork, "You can do anything with enough sticky tape and glue!"

The wheel tongue groaned, and the left wheel fell off. Mr. Krabs gave a sheepish chuckle, and reattached it.

_

* * *

October 20, 1848_

_Squidward is well again._

"Hey guys, I'm better now," called Squidward.

Mr. Krabs glanced back.

"Wait, you were sick?"

"Yes, I had a serious illness," replied Squidward.

"Oh," nodded Mr. Krabs, "Well, ye should've told us. We'd have stopped."

Squidward gritted his teeth but said nothing.

_

* * *

October 18, 1848_

_You have reached South Pass. You decided to rest for 3 days._

_

* * *

October 22, 1848_

_You decided to take the trail to the Green River Crossing._

"You sure you don't want to visit the fort up north, first?" asked Danny, who was in South Pass for no reason.

"Do I look yellow to you," growled Mr. Krabs, "Does this wagon look _French?_"

He scowled at Danny as the wagon left.

Danny blinked.

"French? But World War II hasn't even happened yet…" he mused.

_

* * *

October 24, 1848_

_You had a wagon wheel break but were able to replace it from supplies._

_October 27, 1848_

_You had a wagon wheel break but were able to fix it._

"Mr. Krabs, how much did this wagon cost?" asked Squidward.

"Fifty cents," replied Mr. Krabs.

"Yeah, I thought as much."

_

* * *

October 30, 1848_

_You have reached the Green River Crossing. You chose to caulk your wagon and float it across the river._

"Wow, that was pretty fun!" grinned Spongebob, "Let's do that again at the next river!"

"Sure," nodded Sandy, "What could possibly go wrong…ah, dagnabbit, I tempted fate."

_

* * *

November 8, 1848_

_Squidward has a fever._

_You have reached Soda Springs. You decided to rest for 4 days._

"Hot springs!" cheered Spongebob, jumping into the springs.

"Alright everyone, we're stopping here to relax for a bit," nodded Mr. Krabs, "All of us except you, Squidward, you have stay in the wagon. It's yer fever."

"…but the springs would be good for my health," began Squidward.

"STAY. IN. THE WAGON," growled Mr. Krabs.

Squidward sighed as Mr. Krabs climbed out of the wagon. He averted his eyes as the big crab immediately threw off his top and ran after Spongebob.

_

* * *

November 18, 1848_

_Squidward is well again._

"No thanks to you," he hissed at Mr. Krabs.

"What?" demanded Mr. Krabs, "Somebody had to guard the wagon!"

Squidward rolled his eyes.

_

* * *

November 26, 1848_

_You had a wagon axle break but were able to fix it._

Mr. Krabs looked at his handiwork with pride.

"What did I tell ya? Glue and sticky tape!" he beamed.

"Yeah, but when the axle broke, it ripped a hole in the wagon floor," reminded Sandy.

"I'll fix it," nodded Mr. Krabs, "It'll be easy."

_

* * *

November 29, 1848_

_Mr. Krabs has a broken leg._

Mr. Krabs nursed his leg and glared at the hole.

"I'll try again tomorrow," he gnarled.

_

* * *

November 30, 1848_

_Mr. Krabs has a broken arm._

Mr. Krabs was now nursing both a broken leg _and_ a broken arm.

"I'll try again tomorrow," he scowled.

_

* * *

December 1, 1848_

_Squidward has a broken arm._

Mr. Krabs was now nursing a broken leg, a broken arm and Squidward's broken arm.

"I don't know _how_ that happened," he said aloud.

_

* * *

December 5, 1848_

_Blizzard!_

"_I TOLD YOU THIS WOULD HAPPEN!"_ thundered Squidward, as they continued along the mountain trail in blizzard conditions.

Mr. Krabs looked around the freezing wagon, looking for an excuse. He found none.

"Well darn, you were right," he muttered sheepishly.

_

* * *

December 6, 1848_

_You have reached the Snake River Crossing. You chose to caulk your wagon and float it across the river._

_A/N: For some reason, the game decided not to record the fact that it sank at this point._

Sandy pulled herself out of the river, joining the others on the other side.

"Yeah, that's just what I needed," groaned Squidward, "To _nearly drown._"

"Well, at least we're all in one piece," shrugged Sandy.

They glanced at the river.

"How're we gonna get the wagon out?"

_

* * *

December 15, 1848_

_Squidward got sick and died._

Squidward stood at the back of the wagon, taking in the mountain air.

"Well, we've made about a thousand miles," he said to himself, "Maybe we're gonna live after-_HHUUYYNNNG!"_

He clutched his chest and fell out of the wagon.

The wagon stopped, and Spongebob, Mr. Krabs and Sandy got out.

"Wow…I didn't see that coming," mused Mr. Krabs.

"_SQUIDWARD!"_ cried Spongebob, throwing himself on the dead squid's body.

He sobbed for two minutes, before Mr. Krabs picked him up.

"Get a hold of yerself, man!" he yelled, slapping the sponge, "Nobody else is dying on this trip!"

_

* * *

December 27, 1848_

_Mr. Krabs got sick and died._

Spongebob and Sandy stood over Mr. Krabs' grave, knee deep in snow.

"I just…don't get it," whispered Spongebob, "Maybe this trail is haunted. I mean, you saw all those dysentery graves back there…"

"We're gonna make it, Spongebob," reassured Sandy, putting her hand on Spongebob's shoulder.

_

* * *

December 28, 1848_

_Heavy fog. Sandy has a fever. You decided to rest for 7 days._

"FISH_PASTE!"_ shouted Spongebob, as Sandy sat in the wagon, coughing.

"Just…just keep going, I'm fine," spluttered Sandy.

"No! We're not going anywhere until you're better!" snapped Spongebob.

_

* * *

January 4, 1849_

_You decided to rest for 4 days._

_

* * *

January 6, 1849_

_Sandy is well again._

"Yay! Stopping in the middle of a snowy, freezing mountain range cured your fever!" cheered Spongebob.

"…how?" asked Sandy, confused.

_

* * *

January 11, 1849_

_Sandy got lost._

_A/N: It took about five days to find her._

Spongebob finished looking around the wagon and jumped out, in a cold sweat.

"Oh no!" he gasped in horror, "Sandy has been kidnapped…by _BAMBI!_"

_

* * *

January 16, 1849_

_Spongebob and Bambi had an epic fight for Sandy's freedom._

_OK, not really._

_

* * *

January 18, 1849_

_You have reached Grande Ronde in the Blue Mountains. You decided to rest for 7 days._

"Let's just rest here for a week or so," sighed Spongebob, exhausted as he lay on the back of the wagon.

"Yeah, why not?" agreed Sandy.

_

* * *

January 26, 1849_

_You decided to rest for 7 days._

_February 3, 1849_

_You decided to rest for 7 days._

Spongebob continued to lay in the back of the wagon, unaware that that the snow had melted.

"Let's just rest…"

"Spongebob!" snapped Sandy, "WE! ARE! LEAVING!"

_

* * *

February 22, 1849_

_Sandy is suffering from exhaustion. You decided to rest for 7 days._

"We've gotta be the slowest pioneers ever," sighed Sandy.

"Yeah," nodded Spongebob.

_

* * *

March 3, 1849_

_Sandy is well again. You have reached The Dalles. You decided to go rafting._

The raft was very long, having to be big enough to accommodate all twenty oxen and a wagon. Spongebob and Sandy stood at the back, Sandy acting as the steerer.

"Alright, you ready to go?" asked Sandy.

"No," replied Spongebob.

"Here we go!" grinned Sandy.

"I said n-aaaaahhhhhh!" screamed Spongebob, hanging onto the wagon as the raft was washed downstream at high speed.

"YEE-HAW!" cheered Sandy, as they steered past the many sharp rocks.

Sandy was having the time of her life.

Spongebob was consigning himself to his fate.

_

* * *

I dunno what day it is, they don't tell you when you arrive._

The raft washed up at the opposite end of The Dalles in the Willamette Valley. Spongebob was still screaming when they finally docked.

"Well, we made it," grinned Sandy, helping a dizzy Spongebob off the raft.

"We're here," gasped Spongebob, rubbing his eyes, "We're all here…well, except the ones who are dead."

"So," nodded Sandy, "What do we do now?"

There was a short silence.

_

* * *

1849+_

_INSERT SHIPPING HERE._


	5. 05 10 10: With Great Power

I personally hate this one. But I was tired, so what do you expect?

Review replies;

**unknown20troper:** I'm glad you liked it. Good to hear from you again! Thanks for reading.

**Movie-Brat:** Why do I find that funny? XD Anyway, great idea. Another idea for a character is Jimmy (because I haven't tortured him enough yet). Anyway, thanks for the review.

**Cartooniac55:** Well, there aren't many snakes under the sea, I guess. :D Thanks for reviewing!

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant: **It's Oregon Trail, the only game where you can have dysentery and choleria at the same time! Thanks very much.  
**

* * *

5/10/10 – With Great Power…**

I guess it was sorta my fault.

Actually, I take that back – it was _definitely _my fault.

After Poof was born, I decided that it would be too dangerous to bring him along on any of our wacky adventures. Well, I also didn't want a baby around, but the first was my primary concern. Honest.

With that in mind, I decided to gently remove Timmy from our group.

…and by gently remove, I mean totally cut him out.

Yeah, I'm not really helping my sympathy here, am I?

It's what you have to do, I guess, what we're all trying to do. Distance ourselves from it, from…him. Make it seem like it wasn't our fault.

I'll tell you the whole story. If anyone ever reads this, they can decide whose fault it was.

* * *

It all started and ended about three days ago. It was half-past nine, and I was in class, trying not to fall asleep (I mean, seriously? They actually expect us to be up and at it at _nine?_ Even _geniuses_ have their limits!) Principal Willoughby called us (me, Carl and Sheen) up to his office.

So we went up, me praying that he hadn't found out about the bottle rocket incident (by the way, I wonder if Bolbi is out of the hospital yet?) Instead of Principal Willoughby waiting for us, however, it was Wanda in her human disguise.

She just looked me in the eye and said, "You have to come with me. Timmy's gone crazy."

My response to this was to 'derp' for a few seconds, before croaking out a "Wha?"

"He's gone crazy," repeated Wanda, "He's locked himself in his school with a magic muffin."

"A…magic muffin?" I asked, confused.

"I think that was in an Ultralord episode," nodded Sheen.

Useful as always, Sheen.

"A magic fairyversary muffin," explained Wanda, "Each bite gets you a rule-free wish. Look, I'll explain on the way."

She grabbed my hand, and poofed me and my friends away.

* * *

We arrived two blocks from Dimmsdale Elementary to find that it was surrounded by the police.

"Are you sure this is Timmy and not that crazy teacher?" Carl asked.

"It's Timmy," Wanda nodded, gravely, "He's been through a lot lately…today, he snapped."

"Do tell," I replied.

Wanda gave me a short stare, before elaborating, "His parents went on vacation again, he got held up by Francis, tormented by Vicky and stalked by Crocker. Then _we_ forgot his fairyversary. Then he sneezed on Trixie and…and that _brute_ who guards the popular kids thrashed him…"

"Why does that guy still have a job?" asked Jimmy.

"I don't know," sighed Wanda, "But we pulled him out of the garbage, he exploded at us, took the muffin and…yeah."

I looked at the school and gave a nod.

"Right, I'll get Spongebob, Danny and whoever they're with right now," I decided, "We're gonna need to talk some sense into him."

* * *

The Dimmsdale Police suck. No ifs or buts about it. We managed to sneak past them to the back door without a hitch.

There were five of us (Carl and Sheen had been the distraction to get past the cops, and Danny was flying overhead with a radio to tell us what the police were doing.) I was the leader, _naturally_ (excuse me while I turn off the show-off-o-meter), with Wanda, Sam, Spongebob and Sandy with me.

(Author's Note: Sandy has now been in three out of five of these oneshots. Is this author favouritism or should I be booked for cruelty to squirrels?)

We entered in the back, into a dark, empty corridor.

"Where is everyone?" asked Wanda, glancing nervously around.

Sam glanced into one of the classrooms.

"Found them."

I looked into a classroom. The kids and teacher inside were frozen – no, not in suspended animation, they were literally iced over.

"Yep, this is Timmy's work," I deducted.

We walked further into the building.

"So, where are Cosmo and Poof?" I asked.

"Timmy still has them," replied Wanda, biting her lip.

I tried to remember the layout of the school from my brief tenure here when I first met Timmy. If I remembered correctly, you could cut through the gym to get to the cafeteria, and from there it was just a few metres to Timmy's class.

I edged open the door to the gym to find it, too, was deserted, save for a single, stone figure.

"I don't think that was there yesterday," gulped Sandy.

I moved closer to inspect the figure. It was in the shape of a girl, in an expression of surprise. She wore a cheerleader's uniform and had a ponytail and swirl.

"I remember this person," I mused.

"Veronica," added Wanda, "But where are the other popular kids?"

"Hopefully, no worse then this," I replied, pulling a small pen out of my pocket.

I clicked the lid, and Veronica turned back into a human.

"What?" she groaned, rubbing her head.

"You're fine," reassured Sam.

"Why is there a fairy, a sponge and a squirrel here?" she asked, somewhat nervously.

"Why did you get turned to stone," replied Sandy, lightly, "Just mosey on out, we've got it covered."

As we watched Veronica leave, I wondered wether or not she thought she was dreaming. Probably.

"Wait," said Veronica, turning around, "You…you should go back. You might end up like the rest of the popular kids…"

She shook her head, and continued on her way out.

"That sounds bad," gulped Spongebob.

"We'll be fine, keep going," I ordered.

We walked to the other end of the gym and entered the cafeteria.

I wretched.

"What smells like burning wax?" I demanded.

Wanda said nothing. She had gone pale, and was pointing to a table. Two wax puddles were dripping from the seats, with another larger puddle next to it.

I looked at the clothing.

"…pretty expensive stuff," noted Sam, "Tacky, too."

"Tad and Chad," whispered Wanda, "And the bodyguard, too. Timmy must have…"

She trailed off.

"No," I snapped, "He wouldn't do that!"

"You got any other ideas?" asked Sandy, grimly.

I didn't.

Timmy's classroom was not a long walk away, and was surprisingly unlocked. We entered, seeing Timmy sitting on the floor, looking miserable.

"Timmy," I growled, "It's time to stop this."

Timmy looked at us, a grim and broken look on his face.

"I…it wasn't me."

Wanda pushed past me, her face red.

"What do you _mean_, it wasn't you?" she thundered, "You froze the entire school, turned Veronica to stone, _melted_ Tad and Chad, and now you're trying to wriggle out of…"

"…actually, he's right."

We turned. A shadow was leaning against the wall on the other side of the room.

"Who are you?" demanded Sam.

"The embodiment of Timmy's darkness," the shadow replied in an oily voice, "Unwittingly released when Timmy wished on the muffin to be relieved of the darkness that caused him to berate you."

Timmy blinked.

"He didn't put it quite like that," Timmy's Shadow added.

"Wait, so…_you_ did this?" asked Spongebob, confused.

"All of it," grinned Timmy's Shadow, "All of it and more."

The wall behind him rose, revealing several cells behind him. Timmy's class had a cell each, but most of them were unharmed. Most, that is, but two.

Francis was looking like he'd been put through a blender, but it was Trixie - or what had once _been_ Trixie – that was worse. She'd had her whole body turned into gold but her face…which had been removed entirely, leaving just a blank slab of gold over it.

"Whoa," said Sam, "King Midas, much?"

"Why the heck did you do that?" I demanded.

The Shadow grinned.

"Because it was fun," it replied, "And these kind of people deserve it, don't they?"

"No," I snapped, "You can't just…"

"Hold on," realised Wanda, "Where are Cosmo and Poof?"

"That idiot over there," the Shadow pointed angrily at Timmy, "Used the muffin to wish them to Fairy World. They are…unfortunately…safe."

Wanda breathed a sigh of relief.

"_Uh, guys,_" Danny radioed, "_The cops are coming in. You nearly done?_"

"Oh, we're nowhere _near_ done," snarled the Shadow.

It began to glow a slimy purple, the room darkening around him.

"…guys, run," warned Timmy.

"We're not leaving you, Timmy," I snapped, "Come on, we're getting out of here!"

"But my friends!"

"Just go!" snapped Wanda.

I dragged him out the door.

I didn't pay attention to what was happening. We burst out the front door, and I didn't stop until we reached the police line.

Behind us, the school was bathed in darkness. It stayed blacked for a moment, before the shadow resided, and all was still.

* * *

It was about an hour before we were let back in.

'We' were now a smaller number.

Wanda hadn't made it out before the school was engulfed. We never found any trace of her or the Shadow.

Sam got caught by the shadow at the door, but had merely been turned to stone, and was easily returned to normal.

As for the rest of the school…it varied. Most families in Dimmsdale lost someone that day. Some classes were turned into wax museums, others had simply been replaced by brick wall. Timmy's class were gone, only their clothes remaining strewn over the floor.

Trixie was still 'Midas-ised', as Sam put it, but we managed to return her to normal. Tootie was found in another class, turned into a duck (we managed to get her back to normal, to). Between them, Veronica and AJ (who had been at home that day), they were the only people Timmy knew who made it out…alive.

It was all of our fault, I guess. Mine, Timmy, Wanda's – we created 'him.' Now, I, at least, have learned.

Timmy's still shell-shocked over the whole thing. I visit him every other day. Even his parents took time off to look after him.

He seems to be getting back to his old self. He's out of his room, and he'll be back at school next Friday (if it's reopened by then.)

But I look into his eyes, and I know.

Things can never be the same.

* * *

What did I tell ya? It sucks. Next time, I'm starting my writing earlier. :)


	6. 06 10 10: The Haunted Scam

If anyone likes this, I'll add a second part to it later in the month.

Review Replies;

**Movie-Brat:** Got it. I've got an idea of his character, so I should be good for a oneshot within the week. Thanks for reading!

**Cartooniac55:** Yeah, I was meaning to move that, but I was so tired when I put this up that I wasn't concentrating. Thanks for the review!

**unknown20troper:** Glad you liked it, but to be honest, I don't think Butch Hartman would really approve of me melting Tad and Chad. XD Thanks for reviewing.

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** The pattern is unintentional, but I like it, so I'll run with it. I had a bit of fun thinking of punishments, maybe I'm evil. X) Thanks very much!  
**

* * *

06/10/10 – The Haunted Scam**

October the Sixth, 2010.

I was sitting in the review room, staring at a Windows Blue Screen. I was beginning to realise that I should really get a life when the telephone rang.

"Hello?" I answered, picking it up.

"_Yeah, hi, I think my house is haunted by demons, is this Ghostbusters?"_

"No, this isn't Ghostbusters. You're a number off."

"_Ah man. Well, I'd better call them, or I won't be able to pay them two-hundred to remove the problem!_"

My eyes widened.

"No, wait!" I replied, hurriedly, "We're far better then Ghostbusters! We're…we're…we're…"

I clicked my fingers.

"E350's Demon Removal Service!" I spluttered.

"_Oh, a demon removal service? Awesome, I'll pay you instead. See you tonight!"_

I grinned as I hung up.

"Awesome, I scammed someone," I grinned, "Now, I just have to go into the house, sit there until he leaves, then go home again! Easy money!"

I chuckled as I picked up the phone again. I need my 'team' together.

* * *

It was a dark and stormy night, just like in every other haunted house story ever. I had shanghaied Danny, Sam, Tucker and Timmy into joining my scam.

"Hmm," I mused, walking to the door, "The bloke doesn't seem to be here. Meh, we'll wait in his living room."

"Doesn't this seem 'off' to you?" asked Danny, pointing to the old, creaking, wooden building.

"Nope," I replied, straightening my tie, "Come on."

We walked in the front door and into a lavish, but dark and cold, lounge room.

"This guy needs to redecorate," mused Sam.

I sat on the couch.

"OK," I announced, "If the guy asks who we are; I'm the leader, Danny's my number two, Sam's our combat strength, Tucker's our intelligence and Timmy is the canary."

"Canary?" questioned Timmy.

"We send you in first, and if you die we know the room is dangerous," replied Tucker.

"Gee, thanks," deadpanned Timmy.

"Now, I'm going to wait for him on his front lawn," I continued, "You guys feel free to raid his fridge if you can find it."

I walked outside, and stood on the front lawn.

"Hey, E3."

I turned, to see Spongebob, Sandy and Bloo heading up the pavement.

"Oh, yes, you're here for your obligatory appearances," I grinned, "Nice to…why's Bloo here?"

"I heard you were trying to scam someone," replied Bloo, innocently, "I thought the police might want to know…"

"What do you want?" I sighed.

"Fifty bucks."

I sighed and pulled out my wallet.

There was a sudden 'bang', and the house shook. The lights flickered and shut off.

"Did they blow the fuse box or something?" I mused.

We walked back inside, to find that three things were out of place.

Thing Number One – there was a blue-haired witch standing in the middle of the room. (I could tell from the generic pointy hat and robe.)

Thing Number Two – Danny, Sam, Tucker and Timmy were gone.

Thing Number Three – There was a small chocolate stain on the floor.

"Who are you?" Spongebob asked, "You look like an alternate witch version of Ember McLain."

"That's because I _am_ an alternate witch version of Ember McLain," replied Witch Ember, irritably.

"Okeydokey," I nodded, brightly, "Are you the owner of this house? We're here to get rid of the demons."

Bloo and Sandy facepalmed.

"There aren't any demons, baby pop," replied Witch Ember, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes, "I just called you here to trap you for eternity."

"Oh my god," I gasped, "You scammed my scam, you magnificent bastard!"

"…but why do you want to trap us?" asked Sandy, "Wouldn't you just want to kill us or steal our souls or something?"

Witch Ember gave a guffaw.

"If I killed you," she replied, "I wouldn't be able to get my revenge."

"Revenge for what?" enquired Spongebob.

Witch Ember thought for a moment.

"…just shut up and let me torture you," she groaned at last.

"Wait, before you do that!" blurted Bloo, "I have one thing to say!"

"Yeah," asked Witch Ember, uninterested.

"…bye."

Bloo raced out the door and into the night.

"My hero," deadpanned Sandy.

"Enough talk," sighed Witch Ember, pulling her keys out of her watch pocket, "Time for some…fun."

She threw the keys to us.

"What, we gonna get pizza?" I asked, confused.

"L…look at the keychains," stammered Spongebob.

I looked. There were four small, die-cast figures attached to keychains…Danny, Sam, Tucker and Timmy.

"Oh my god," I gasped, "It's like that episode of Digimon!"

Spongebob, Sandy and Witch Ember stared at me.

"What? I used to watch that show," I shrugged.

"Goodnight, _Mr._ E350," snarled Ember, her hand glowing.

"Run!" yelled Sandy.

We ran out the door and into the street, Witch Ember close behind. For about two blocks we were pursued, until we reached my safe haven – the local game shop.

Kicking open the door, we ran into the basement and barricaded it.

"OK, we need a plan," noted Sandy, as the sounds of Witch Ember crashing against the door echoed around us, "Anyone got a weapon?"

"This is a _game shop!_" I whined, "The only weapons here are digital!"

"Maybe we could dig our way out," mused Spongebob.

"Through concrete walls?" challenged Sandy.

"Oh, yeah."

"Maybe we could use this Energon-Manipulation Ray Gun I was carrying around to turn one of us into a Miniature Transformer to beat Witch Ember," I mused, pulling the titular ray from my pocket.

Sandy stared, mouth agape.

"How long have you had that?" she asked.

"Two weeks," I shrugged, "I'm looking after it for a friend. I've also got his Andelite Morphing Cube and his Particle Beam, why?"

Sandy stared for a few more seconds.

"Did you ever think those _might_ just have helped us?" she spluttered at last.

"Nope," I replied, shrugging.

Sandy punched me in the gut.

"Alright," she growled, "We're taking this witch down."

"Whatever you say…Sandimus Prime," I groaned, attempting to show sarcasm.

I got punched again for that.

* * *

Linkara walked out of the 7/11, carrying a bag of sherbet in his hands. He sat on a bench and scooped up some of the sherbet with his spoon, swallowing it.

Across the road, a game shop exploded. A blue haired witch was flung from the site as a human-sized Transformer, looking strangely familiar and bizarrely like a squirrel, followed her out. The witch attempted to run, only to find her way blocked by Spongebob, who turned into an elephant before her eyes. Behind all this, I was firing a Particle Beam indiscriminately, laughing maniacally as I failed to hit anything.

Linkara glanced at his purchase.

"I…don't think this is sherbet," he considered.

**To Be Continued?**


	7. 07 10 10: Dead Gods

This is shorter then the others, but I'm quite happy with it.

A little bit of back story; this is loosely based on part of the plot of a Mass Effect 2 mission. More at the bottom, so I don't spoil anything.

Review Replies;

**Movie-Brat:** I'm glad I'm not the only one who saw it then. More clips would be helpful, thanks :). Thanks for reading!

**unknown20troper:** Just you wait - I'll scam her scam of my scam yet! XD Thanks for reviewing.

**Cartooniac55:** Wait and see. I have an idea, but I don't want to reveal it yet. Thanks for the review!

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** I'm glad you liked it, I'll do a part two later this month. Thanks very much!  
**

* * *

7/10/10: Dead Gods**

_Final Journal Entry of Dr. AJ Ibrehim – January 2020._

My only hope is that someone will read this.

I can't say my entire team is dead, but I wish I could. They're worse then dead. I can hear their moans outside my van.

I am not going to join them. I have gathered three things on my desk – a pen, some paper and a .45. I'm not going to live, but I intend to decide my own fate.

It all began three or four weeks ago, in London. Some guys were widening the Circle Line (one of the underground or 'Tube' railway lines) when they unearthed an ancient tunnel. It was searched, and they found this.

It's an alien machine, so large that it could cover the whole of Greater London. It was shaped like a bug, a cockroach, and carbon dating got it at around fifty-thousand years.

A dedicated team was sent into the tunnel. My team.

I was the head science officer. The leader of the team was Lieutenant-Colonel Dash Baxter, of the 75th US Rangers. The rest of the military component consisted of twelve other rangers. My science team numbered seven, and there were fourteen civilian workers. There were thirty-four of us all together.

We moved into the machine, setting up camp at what I estimated was two miles inside. I set to work studying its construction, its mechanics. It was incredible; I couldn't even comprehend a lot of its workings. What I could would have revolutionised science as we know it.

But it also seemed a bit…wrong. Not in the construction, but in the feel of the machine. You always felt like something was watching you, seeing everything you did, maybe even influencing you.

I remember on day three, one of my scientists, Dr. Neutron, was talking to the psychiatrist, Dr. [Jazz] Fenton, about his brother. I thought nothing of it until later that evening, when I realised that Dr. Neutron didn't even have a brother. When I questioned him, he adamantly insisted that he had a brother and – confusingly enough – that _Dr. Fenton_ was in fact mistaken about having a brother.

It all went downhill quickly from there. Many of the crew began complaining of 'voices whispering in the back of their heads'. Before long, all of us heard them. We couldn't understand their language, but I deducted that they were urging us to succumb…it was attempted indoctrination.

It worked. Before long, most of us were forgetting to eat or sleep, just focusing on the voices. Colonel Baxter, one of the few who remained level-headed, gathered together his rangers and suggested that we make our way out.

We took the vehicles, but even then most were on foot. We moved at snails pack, back towards the tunnel to freedom. But we were getting more and more irrational. Many of the group peeled off, wandered back inside.

We were not far from the tunnel when one of the soldiers – Private Tontini – pulled out his pistol and fired two shots. The Colonel fell, dead.

I ducked into my caravan and shut the door. I heard unearthly, horrible moaning from outside – I fell into despair and cried.

They've been clawing at the door for an hour now. I can see them. They're not even human anymore. Hideous, blue-skinned…_husks_ of creation, each emitting a horrific, pitiful moan. Their faces…they're not even faces anymore. They've got glowing blue eyes and their features…it looks kind of like wires outlining them.

If anyone ever reads this, then blow up the tunnel. Hell, if nuking this machine (and by extension, London) is required, do it without hesitation. This thing is an abomination – it must be destroyed.

People will question me. They'll say I went insane, that thing is dead.

It's dead, alright…_but dead gods can still dream.

* * *

_A/N: Right, explaination time!

Reapers are a race of sentient machines with rediculous power that come out of Dark Space (the space between galaxies) every 50,000 years to wipe out all spacefairing civilisations. Rinse and repeat, ad nauseum. One of thier abilities is to 'indoctrinate' organics, particularly those who board a reaper, in which one of two things happens - being turned into a zombie husk, or Indoctrination.

If I wrote about that latter, you would shit bricks.


	8. 08 10 10: A CH: wait, that was last week

To My Readers; well, here you go.

Review Replies;

**Cartooniac55:** Did you watch the Weekenders? That was Tino Tontini. Thanks for reading!

**unknown20troper:** I understand completely. XD I don't think Norm would never be _that_ evil, though! Thanks for the review.

**Movie-Brat:** I have some ideas, but I don't want to reveal everything. Thanks for reviewing!

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** I've never heard of the Necronomicon, I'm afraid. :\ As per Mass Effect - play it. Dear god, play it now. It is awesome. Anyway, thanks very much.  
**

* * *

08/10/10 – A CHALL…wait, that was last week.**

The review room was quiet, save for Squidward sitting at a chair with his arms crossed.

"You people may be wondering where the regular bozos are," he began, "They're downtown fighting a witch, and will be back next week. Until then, I have to keep you informed of the ongoing challenge."

He gave a heavy sigh, and opened an envelope.

"Today's word is 'Control.' I don't know why, I think he just picks them randomly from the dictionary," shrugged Squidward, "He'd also like to ask that you PM him if you post a new entry – otherwise he'll forget to check the main site again and obsessively post in the forums."

He rolled his eyes.

"But, since this is only six paragraphs long, and you'll probably want something a little meatier, here's a little critique of another of E350's old shames," he grinned, nastily, "This is the Nickdale Tales Episode Two: Pizza and Stuff. _Enjoy._"

_

* * *

Episode Two: Pizza and Stuff_** (That title just**_** fills**_** me with hope.)**

The next day **(In cast anyone's wondering, yesterday they were fighting giant blue aliens in a cave.)** was bright, sunny and calm. **(Oh, **_**joy.**_**)** All was peaceful across the city of Nickdale. People just stopped in the street feeling glad to be alive. **(I'd be glad to be alive if I wasn't reading this.)**

Then all of this peace was shattered by an alien fighting two strange bucktoothed people.

Timmy and Spongebob ran down the street, Ewdard **(Yes, that's his real name.)** following close behind. People turned and stared as Ewdard slammed down the road.

"Hey Bill," mused a cop, "You think that's an alien?"

"Ptth, no," another replied. **(What else could it be? An escaped lion? **_**Morons.**_**)**

Timmy turned around and fired stars at his opponent **(with what?)**, but he dodged and continued to chase.

"Great," sighed Timmy, "Now he knows our moves."** (Note the dramatic monotone.)**

The two turned a corner. There, at the start of this street, stood the pizzeria Shirley owned. Ewdard rounded the bend and sniffed.

Then he started grinning like a maniac. **(Are you sure it's a pizzeria?)**

"Pizza," he murmured.

Ewdard walked slowly over to the door and entered. Timmy and Spongebob stared as loud noises exploded from inside. They sounded like…gorging.

"They're addicted to pizza?" Timmy quizzed. **(Maybe it's **_**Kryptonite**_** pizza. Hah…get it…you know…Superman...yeah.)**

Ewdard walked happily out of the pizzeria, looking very pleased. He giggled insanely as he walked back in the direction of the Caves.

"Wow," Spongebob gasped, "Not even they can resist pizza!" **(If anyone sings 'Krusty Krab Pizza', I swear…)**

"We'd better tell the others," Timmy noted, "But first…gimme five!"

The two high-fived before walking in the direction of Jimmy's house.

* * *

High above them, utilizing a jet pack, a hunch-backed man watched the two walk towards Jimmy's Lab. **(Oh, how convenient.)**

"You think you can stop us, eh, Turner?" Crocker scoffed, "Well, I have the upper hand! Once I use this Alien technology to get you in my grasp, I will remove from your clammy dead hands…FAIRY GOD PARENTS!"

He began to spasm uncontrollably and ran into a billboard.

* * *

Timmy and Spongebob arrived at Jimmy's house to find it in a mess.

"Jimmy!" Timmy called, walking up the stairs, "What the heck happened?"

He climbed over mess and craters until he reached his room, finding Hugh sprawled in the corner.

"Oh, hey Timmy," he said dizzily, "Jimbo's not here right now, his friend wanted him to come out."** (I'd say that kind of stupidity surprises me, but it really doesn't.)**

"Which friend?" Timmy asked, confused.

"The one with the weird back," replied Hugh. **(Wow. Great Dialogue. I am moved. End sarcasm.)**

"AAHHHHH!"

Timmy darted back down stairs, Hugh following groggily behind. Spongebob was being dragged out the door by none other then the insane teacher, Denzel Crocker.** (Yes, we **_**know.**_**)**

"Oh yeah, it was that friend!" Hugh noted.

"Ah, Turner," Crocker taunted, "I was wondering when you'd turn up. If you ever want to see your friends again, meet me tomorrow afternoon at the Dimmadome…and bring your FAIRIES with you!" **(Since when did Crocker hold people to ransom?)**

"I just love it when he does that," laughed Hugh.

"NOOOO!" Spongebob yelled as Crocker dragged him away. **(You want a laugh? Imagine that 'no' sounding like Darth Vader's in Star Wars III.)**

* * *

"So you want us to dress up as fairies and go with you to the Dimmadome?" AJ asked. **(Worst Gilligan Cut Ever.)**

"I need help to distract Crocker," Timmy replied, "Besides, it's not like fairies are real or anything…nah, just…just the holograms…yeah."** (I can see how he's kept his fairies for so long.)**

Chester and AJ glanced at each other. They were in the cafeteria, and Timmy had just explained his predicament.

"I don't get it," AJ mused, "If Crocker's helping these Aliens, why don't you tell the cops?"

"Do you think they'll believe us?" **(Yes.)**

"No."

"Exactly."** (Exactly against all logic, that is.)**

"What's in it for us?" asked Chester, eyebrow raised.

"Maybe you could do this out of the goodness of your hearts?" Timmy suggested. **(Ha-ha, no.)**

There was a short silence.

"Fine, you get fifty bucks," Timmy sighed.

"Apiece?"

"Don't push it."

* * *

"What's the hold up?" Timmy demanded.

He was standing outside the bathrooms at the Dimmadome, waiting for his friends.

"We feel stupid," Chester called.** (Well, you ripped off a gag from my show. Good work, you sad twit.)**

"Fine, don't get fifty bucks!"

The door opened. Chester and AJ walked out of the toilet, blushing. They had (rather obviously) fake wings on and a crown suspended by a very visible piece of wire.

"Right, let's go through the plan," Timmy stated, "Cosmo, Wanda and I…"

"Who are holograms," stated Wanda, disguised as the Starflinger. **(Just making sure that gag is stale enough.)**

"…go down to the stadium bit and find Crocker. You guys start running around, Crocker chases you, I free the others, we kick Crocker's butt, and then we go home. Got it?" **(What happens if they get caught? See, it only took me two seconds to find a flaw in that.)**

"Got it!" Chester and AJ replied.

Timmy nodded and went ahead. Ominous music started playing as he walked onto the oval…towards his nemesis. **(That was a useless ellipses.)**

"Well, Turner, I'm glad you showed up," Crocker sneered, "Where are you FAIRIES?"

"Right here," Timmy replied, "Now guys!"

Chester and AJ ran onto the field, jumping about (and still blushing).

"Hi, um, we're fairies, and stuff…" Chester sung, out of tune.

"Now start chasing us to rip off our…lungs," AJ sang.

"Timmy we're gonna kill you on Monday!" they both finished. **(I bet it took you years to master such prose.)**

"I never said you had to sing," Timmy pointed out.

"FAIRIES?" Crocker spasm-questioned, "But they're students from my class. Unless my class has been infiltrated by FAIRY GOD PARENTS!" **(Or maybe you're just momentarily stupid. That works too.)**

Crocker laughed as he began to run.

"YES, YES! BWHAHAHA! BWHAHAHA! AT LAST!" **(I'm surprised he hasn't lost his voice from all this screaming.)**

Chester and AJ screamed as they ran for it. Timmy shook his head, as he found a trapdoor in the middle of the oval.

"You don't think you can win that easy, do ya?" a voice asked.

Timmy gasped as he turned to face a second enemy. **(It was…the author.)**

"Doug Dimmadome?" he exclaimed.** (No, it's Doug Walker.)**

"That's right, Doug Dimmadome!" Doug replied, "Owner of the Dimmadome, Multi-millionaire and Guy who's gettin' paid to help this weirdo!"** (Why would you need to be paid by a working class teacher who lives with his mom if you're a multi-millionaire?)**

"Well," sighed Timmy, bringing out Cosmo's Cosmo Hammer** (by Cosmo)**, "At least you shouldn't be that hard to beat."

"Wanna bet?" asked Doug, lifting up his overcoat, "My belt's black for a reason!"

The hammer whacked Doug over the head.

"What reason?" Timmy taunted.

"Uh…" Doug dizzily shook his head, "I'm a professional milk shooter!"** (Oh yes. They have black-belts in 'Milk Shooting.' Ho ho ho.)**

Doug brought out two water pistols, full of milk.

"By milk, I mean goat milk," Doug added, evilly.

"THE HORROR!" Cosmo yelled.

"Bring it on," Timmy replied grimly, bringing out Wanda's Starflinger.** (Is this supposed to be funny?)**

The wind blew, and a tumbleweed blew past. The two stood in duel positions, ready to fire.

"Three…" Doug stated.

"Two…" added Timmy.

"One…" Doug growled.

"DRAW!"

Timmy and Doug fired simultaneously. Two of Timmy's stars made contact with Doug's milk squirts, blocking them off. The third star hit Doug in the chest, knocking him backwards. **(That was anti-climactic.)**

"I'll get you yet…Turner!" Doug gagged, falling to the ground and closing his eyes.

Timmy walked over to him.

"Oh my gosh," he gasped, poking him, "Is he…" **(Sadly, no.)**

"Geddof! Doug Dimmadome ain't dead yet!" yelled Doug, before fainting again.

Crocker, meanwhile, was still chasing Chester and AJ.

"Blast your youthful agility!" he yelled.

"Hey, Crocker!"

Crocker turned around.

"Turner? What is it now? I'm bust trying to capture these fa-" **(I hope that 'fa' isn't leading to what I think it is.)**

Crocker's eyes glanced around. Timmy was now joined by Jimmy, Danny, Spongebob, Arnold and Tommy. **(How did he get them out again?)**

"About that whole 'kidnapping' thing," Jimmy smirked, "We'd kinda like payback."

Crocker looked around, finding his fairy hunting gear and the Alien technology…behind his enemies. **(Then go **_**around**_** them.)**

"Oh…poopie."

"DRAW!" Timmy yelled again.** (Yes, attack a defenceless man. Our heroes.)**

Timmy fired the Starflinger. Jimmy fired the Tornado Blaster. Danny used an ectoplasmic beam. Spongebob fired a guided bubble. Tommy used his camera-laser. And Arnold hit a ball at him using his bat. **(Those should not all be individual sentences.)**

Crocker was hit hard. Screaming, he grabbed Doug and began to run.

"Stop him!" Jimmy yelled.

"Nah, let him go," Timmy chuckled.

"WHAT?" demanded Danny, "Why?"

"There's a slice of pizza stuck in Doug Dimmadome's back pocket," Timmy shrugged.

Then he finally told Jimmy of the Alien weakness. **(Jimmy proceeded to ask him what he was on, and if he could have some.)**

* * *

Danny was walking home, satisfied. He wondered how he'd explain away his absence, but according to Timmy, Tucker had him covered. **(Oh, yeah, Tucker will just casually explain him being missing for twenty-four hours.)**

_Great,_ he thought, _now we know a weakness. Maybe this day will end well after…_

"I AM THE BOX GHOST!" a voice yelled from the skies.

"Aw, great," Danny sighed, "I'm Going Ghost."

The rings crisscrossed his body as he turned from Danny Fenton to Danny Phantom. He jumped into the air and flew out to meet his least threatening adversary. **(If it's not threatening, why did you try to make it dramatic?)**

Little did he know, this would do no ordinary fight with the Box Ghost. **(There should be an ellipsis here. You fail.)**


	9. 09 10 10: A Terrible Thing to Lose

The opening to this one is pretty weak. Other then that, I had fun with this one. And by fun, I mean I had morbid terror writing this.

Review replies;

**Movie-Brat:** Well, his style is indeed awesome. *nod* Thanks for reading!

**unknown20troper: **I'm glad you liked it. Thanks for reviewing!

**Cartooniac55:** No problem, amigo [/stereotypical Mexican]. I like writing Squidward. Thanks for the review!

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** Hmm, the Necronomicon sounds like a good read :P. Thanks very much!  
**

* * *

09/10/10 – A Terrible Thing to Lose**

The Syndicate, it turned out, were not doing a deal with the devil.

On the contrary, a deal with the devil would have been much more moral.

Vlad was not present, having refused to even partake in such madness. Plankton and Crocker sat back and watched as Calamitous grinned and shook hands with the multi-eyed bug creature.

"I must thank you for helping us, Mr…" he began.

"**WE ARE TERMINUS,**" the bug replied in a deep voice.

"We?" quizzed Plankton, confused.

"**THIS IS MERELY A VESSEL,**" the bug boomed, "**WHAT WE KNOW AS A COLLECTOR. OUR REAL MIGHT IS VASTLY SUPERIOR.**"

"Fair enough," shrugged Plankton, "If you're so 'vastly superior', why are you helping us?"

"**WE ARE MAROONED IN THIS UNIVERSE,**" replied the bug, "**WE REQUIRE YOUR ASSISTANCE TO RETURN TO OUR OWN.**"

Plankton nodded.

"**WE WILL BE DONE WITHIN THE WEEK. YOU WILL HAVE YOUR AGENT,**" droned the bug.

Then there was an electrical zap, and it was gone.

* * *

The telephone began to ring. Sandy walked over to it and picked it up.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"_Yes,_" a British-accented voice replied, "_You wouldn't awfully mind checking something out for us with that rocket of yours, would you? We think we've found a craft, you might want to make contact…"_

* * *

The giant, bug-like craft would have easily been noticed, were it not hanging around the back of Jupiter.

Sandy looked over from the console in the cockpit to the ship, and gave a whistle. It was certainly imposing. Weird, but imposing.

She spoke into the comm. unit.

"This is Sandy Cheeks representing Earth, do you copy, out?"

"**YOUR GULLIBILITY FAILS TO SURPRISE ME, ORGANIC.**"

"Gullibility?"

"**IT IS IN YOUR NATURE. YOU ARE ALWAYS TACKLING THE UNKNOWN, NEVER AWARE OF YOUR EVENTUAL INGLORIOUS FATE.**"

The giant ship fired a probe, which latched itself to Sandy's vessel.

"**TAKE THAT BACK TO EARTH, IF YOU SO DESIRE,**" the radio rumbled, "**I HAVE NO FURTHER USE FOR YOU HERE.**"

Sandy glared at the ship, not sure wether to keep talking or go home.

She decided on the latter and turned around.

* * *

Sandy sat at her picnic table, the probe sitting on the grass nearby. It was a strange thing, a simple red cube with no discernable way of disassembly. What exactly was it?

She got up, and looked over it. It seemed strangely compelling – like a work of art, or a particularly well-spoken person. Except this was a box, nothing more, nothing less.

Slowly, she put her hand on it. It felt like some kind of metal, a little cold, certainly nothing special, and yet the feeling felt good to her. She didn't know why – maybe it was connected to the magnetism of the box.

Taking her hand off the box, she decided to try and open it. This, as it turned out, was easier said then done. Her blowtorch did nothing – in fact, neither did lasers, and those usually cut anything.

"What in tarnation are you?" mused Sandy.

She looked up. The sun was setting, and the ocean above the Treedome was a soft gold and red. It was getting late, she decided. She'd grab a bite to eat and turn in. She could worry about a box in the morning.

* * *

Dinner was uneventful, and Sandy was about to turn in when the phone rang. Absently, Sandy picked up the phone.

"Yup?" she asked.

"_Hi Sandy!_" said Spongebob, brightly, _"I was just wondering if you wanted to come over for a little karate tomorrow?"_

"You're on," grinned Sandy, "Just be warned, I ain't gonna go easy on ya."

"_That's OK, I've been training!_" replied Spongebob.

"Well, gotta go," finished Sandy, rolling her eyes, "I've been working on Terminus' box all day and I'm pooped. See ya tomorrow!"

Sandy hung up and entered her bedroom.

She was unaware that she'd never actually learned Terminus' name.

* * *

Sandy returned mid-afternoon the next day, having had a relatively good day. Spongebob hadn't improved, despite his claim of training, but they'd had fun, and that was all that mattered.

Sandy hung up her airsuit and glanced at the box. It was still beckoning her – part of her mind had been on it all day. Weird.

She thought back to the ship in space…a Reaper, wasn't it?

Yes, that was it.

Sitting down at the table again, Sandy thought it over.

"So," she repeated to herself, "A Reaper, who's name is Terminus, gave me this probe…but why?"

She rubbed her head. It wasn't that she'd had a headache, far from it. In fact, her head felt pretty good. Her brain was coming up with ideas more often then usual – she was in the mood for some inventing.

What she couldn't put her head on – and what felt somewhat wrong – was that some of the ideas she was getting were not…in character, if you will.

They were ideas of superiority, that if a machine race advanced enough existed, then organics would no longer be required…or useful.

She shook such ideas out of her head, and walked into her lab, humming a tune.

* * *

The next day, Sandy woke up feeling much more relaxed then usual. She thought nothing of it, as she'd gone to bed pretty early last night.

Her body seemed to be on autopilot as she went down to get breakfast, as she inattentively chewed on her thoughts.

So Terminus, the Reaper, sent her a probe, a box. That she knew.

She also knew that the Reapers, as a whole, desired the complete annihilation of all organic space-fairing civilisations, due to the inherent inferiority of biological creatures. That goal seemed admirable enough.

As she ate her cereal, she thought on her part in this master plan, on how she could help…

Sandy choked on her cereal and spat it out.

What was she _thinking?_

Getting up from her seat and dashing to the bathroom, Sandy cowered over her sink and looked in the mirror.

"Why am thinking about that stuff?" she demanded, "What the heck's wrong with me?"

The obvious problem, her brain told her, was that she was an organic, and therefore, everything was wrong with her. Alright then.

No. Not alright.

Storming outside, Sandy grabbed the box and shoved it onto her jeep, before driving away down the road.

She drove for a long time, knowing perfectly well where she was going. It was the place known as make-out reef – she'd fallen off the cliff there once, and now she intended to make something else fall.

Arriving at the reef, Sandy parked, and took the box. She stood over the cliff and held the box over it.

"This ends here," she snarled.

She tried to let go.

Her head was in chaos. One side of her head was clambering to hold onto the box, to let its mission be completed. The other side wanted to drop it, to let it smash at the bottom, to never think of it again.

Finally, one side won.

Sandy stepped back from the cliff and gently set down the box.

Then she curled into a ball and began to sob.

* * *

Indoctrination.

That's what they called it.

The slow erosion of the mind, the creation of a mindless slave to the Reapers. The most monstrous act committable.

Sandy knew her mind was collapsing. As she worked in her lab, she felt like her brain was a melting mess.

Memories had vanished, replaced by large holes. Not just little things, mind you – everything before the last seven years was a clouded mess. She remembered she'd come from Texas, but _where_ in Texas? Who were her parents, her family? Why did she come to Bikini Bottom?

With nothing left to fall back on, the small, slowly dying remnant of her mind had latched onto one, somewhat delirious idea.

It was fate, destiny that brought her here. Destiny that made her, rather literally, a fish out of water.

Despite not remembering a thing about life before it, Sandy could confidently say that those had been the best years of her life.

If this worked, those years could continue.

If it didn't, her mind would disappear, she'd be a slave forever and she'd probably end up murdering or enslaving the entire city.

The science she was using was shaky at best. She'd remembered telling Jimmy about the theory once – he'd gone on a half-hour tirade on its impossibility. It was all she had left to fall on, however, so damn everything, she'd try.

She just needed to do something first. She picked up her phone and dialled a number.

"_Hello?_"

"Hey Spongebob," replied Sandy, her voice rasping.

"_Hi! Err…are you OK? You sound sick,_" stated Spongebob.

"I…I'll be fine," lied Sandy, "Listen, I…I just wanted to tell you something."

"…"

"You still there, Spongebob?" asked Sandy.

"_What's wrong?_" asked Spongebob, nervously.

"I just wanted to tell you…"

Sandy let out a deep breath.

"…I love ya, Spongebob."

There was a brief pause.

"_Sandy, what's going on?_" demanded Spongebob, sounding frightened, "_You're not dying or anything, are you?_"

"I wish I was," chuckled Sandy, humourlessly.

She made to hang up.

"_Wait! What's going on? SAN-"_

The phone was hung up.

Sandy looked at the device, sitting on her bench. It was now or never.

"You think you'd got me, huh, varmit?" she growled, "Not a chance."

She held her mitten over a large red button.

"Ya see, we on Earth have a concept," she continued, "It's called a soul. Lot a people say it don't exist, and there ain't no-one who can explain it, but its there…and it's something _you_ don't have."

She pressed the button.

"Have fun with your puppet, _Terminus_," she sneered, "I'm outta here."

She gave a slightly delirious laugh as a blue aura covered her body. The laugh faded as she collapsed, landing in a heap on the lab floor.

* * *

She, or at least her body, woke up five hours later.

She thought nothing. There was nothing to think. Her mind had eroded – there was nothing but orders from the Reapers.

Terminus' orders were simple – work as an agent for 'the Evil Syndicate', in hope that they could produce a method of returning to the home universe. Once that happened, there would be nothing.

There was just one major problem.

Terminus wasn't there.

* * *

Jimmy looked at his lab screen and grinned.

"Well, there we go," he nodded, "World destroying sentient spacecraft is _gone_. Thank Einstein for multi-dimensional travel."

"Thank you Einstein," deadpanned Timmy, leaning against the wall, "Can we go home now?"

"I don't get it," mused Danny, looking warily at the screen, "Who tipped us off? How did anyone know that there was a death-ship in the middle of the solar system?"

"Who knows?" shrugged Timmy, "Good for them, I guess. Now, where's Spongebob?"

"Oh, he's just…busy," replied Jimmy.

* * *

Spongebob had arrived at Sandy's place at first light (the only reason he hadn't come earlier was that he'd nearly burnt his house down; he'd been cooking at the time she'd called). Finding her totally unresponsive to anything he did, he was now trying to spoon-feed her breakfast as she stared blankly into space.

"Forget it, Spongebob. She's gone."

Spongebob cringed at the voice, and turned to the door.

"What do you mean she's…"

Spongebob froze.

A metallic figure stood at the door. Its shape was somewhat mechanical, somewhat akin to an XJ-unit, yet it was very, very familiar.

"Sandy?" gasped Spongebob.

"Howdy," nodded Sandy.

There was a long silence.

"Why are you a robot?" asked Spongebob, at last.

"Transferred my…soul, I guess, into this," replied Sandy, "You can thank Jimmy for that. He made it in about three hours. Guy can really spin a good 'bot, can't he?"

"Yeah," nodded Spongebob.

Sandy glanced outside.

"So, I noticed the box was gone," continued Sandy, "Pity I didn't think to tell Jimmy earl-"

Sandy was taken aback as Spongebob wrapped her into a hug, tears in his eyes. He was yelling incomprehensibly about thinking she was dead.

She chuckled.

"We'll talk about that when I get back in my own body," she grinned.

"'Kay," sniffed Spongebob, "J-just one thing. Did you mean what you said last night on the phone? When you said you…"

Sandy gave a grin.

"I meant it."

It was good to be back.

* * *

If the happy ending seems tacked on, well, this was really depressing and terrifying me. Maybe I'm just a chicken. :D


	10. 10 10 10: The Unspectacular Filler

Insert witticism here.

Review Replies;

**unknown20troper:** Don't worry - they're even worse in canon! XP Thanks for reading.

**Movie-Brat:** They're the Syndicate. Subtlety isn't really part of their act. :) Thanks for the review!

**Cartooniac55:** Meh, I couldn't finish the month without shipping, could I? XD Yeah, indoctrination's really gotta suck. Thanks for reviewing.

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** I'm glad you liked it. :D Thanks very much!  
**

* * *

10/10/10 – The Unspectacular Filler**

I sat at my computer, letting out a heavy sigh.

"It's the Tenth of the Tenth of the Tenth, maybe there's potential in that…no, there isn't," I moaned.

"Whatcha doin'?"

Timmy walked into the room, looking over my shoulder.

"I'm trying to think of a oneshot I can write in under an hour," I replied, "I've got something to do later, you see."

"Well, it _is_ the Tenth of the…"

"Yes, I _know_," I replied, irritably.

"Well, maybe you could do something about clones, then?" shrugged Timmy, "Ten of 'em…"

"That would take too long," I replied.

"Maybe you could find one of your older oneshots in your documents, then?"

"Don't have anything suitable," I groaned.

"Reapers?"

"No, Harbinger's threatening to sue," I replied, "Says I'm giving his race a bad name."

_Late last night, the telephone rang, and I picked it up._

"_Yeah?"_

"_**ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL.**__"_

"_Oh, yes, hello Mr. Harbinger, how are you doing?"_

"_**I HAVE AN UNDERSTANDING THAT YOU HAVE BEGUN A SMEAR CAMPAIGN AGAINST THE REAPERS.**__"_

"…_uh, no, those are just stories, nothing more."_

"_**I DEMAND THAT YOU CEASE AND DESIST.**__"_

"_But they're just…"_

"_**IF I MUST BREAK YOU, IMBICILE, I WILL.**__"_

"_Alright, I'll give it a rest. Goodbye, Har-"_

"_**WE ARE YOUR SALVATION THROUGH DESTRUCTION. WE ARE YOUR GENETIC…**__"_

"Goodbye,_ Harbinger."_

_I hung up._

"Well," mused Timmy, "Maybe you could do the Freddy oneshot?"

"Nah, I don't want to rush that one," I replied, "I've got all day tomorrow to work on it, anyway."

"Got it," nodded Timmy, "How about robots?"

"No, I got a cease and desist for that as well."

_The doorbell rang, and I answered. I was immediately introduced to a metal fist._

"_Stop turnin' people into robots, you jackass!"_

_I climbed off the ground and wiped my bleeding nose._

"_Oh, hello Bender," I greeted, "What have I done wrong?"_

"_You keep turnin' people into robots," growled Bender, "That's weird and disturbing! How'd you like it if I turned into a meatbag right in front of ya?"_

"_Well, I'd be very surprised," I admitted._

"_Good!" snapped Bender, "Now get me a Jack Daniels!"_

_I shut the door._

"_Are there any other machine races I've pissed off this week?" I demanded._

_A metallic hand tapped on my shoulder, and I turned around._

"_THE CYBERMEN ARE OFFENDED BY YOUR PERCEPTION OF HUMAN-MACHINE UP-GRADING AS DEGREDETORY," a Cyberman informed me, "YOU WILL BE DELETED."_

"_Get out of my house," I replied._

"OK," continued Timmy, "Well, what can you do?

"We could rap."

"No," deadpanned Timmy.

I sighed.

"I'm just going to have to tell 'em I failed," I sighed, "Thirty-one days, and I only made it ten, what a shame."

"Meh, stuff happens," shrugged Timmy.

I nodded, and looked at the screen.

"OH MY GOD, WORDS HAVE APPEARED!" I yelled.

Timmy looked closely.

"Dude, just you just write everything we just said?" he asked.

"Yeah," I nodded, "That's actually pretty creepy."

There was a short silence.

"Oh well," I grinned, "I'll put it up, and then I will have not failed! Brilliant!"

I grinned, and closed the window.

"I'm awesome," I sighed.

"Did you remember to save?" asked Timmy.

I thought for a second.

The resulting profanity could be heard in New Delhi.

* * *

Yeah, this is a filler. Sorry.


	11. 11 10 10: Heroics

Happy belated birthday, Tweenisode! This one's for you. I found it in my backlog and thought you might like it.

(My plan of giving General Montgomery legendary pokemon will have to wait.)

In less upbeat news, I'm not sure if I'll be able to have a Freddy oneshot after all. I tried, I really did, but I just can't get his character right. I'll see what I can do, but...yeah, I'm really sorry if it doesn't happen.

Review replies;

**TweenisodeOrange: **YAY FELLOW ANIMORPHS FAN! :D Hope you had a good birthday. :) Thanks for reviewing.

**Cartooniac55:** I'm not sure, I'll have to check some time. :/ Thanks for reading!

**Movie-Brat:** God help us all if they try to let out Cthullu. XD Thanks for the review.

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** I'm glad you liked it. Thanks very much!

**unknown20troper:** Very true. XD Filler is hard to write. Thanks!  
**

* * *

Heroics**

_Nurture your mind with great thoughts; to believe in the heroic makes heroes. – Benjamin Disraeli, British Prime Minister (1804-1881)_

_Amity Park, IL._  
_Fourteen Years Ago…_

The giant vehicle raced through the darkened streets of Amity Park, narrowly avoiding the late evening traffic. At its wheel, a man in an orange jumpsuit looked worriedly at the time on the dashboard. 8:47; he had but thirteen minutes left.

Jack Fenton swerved the Fenton Ghost Assault RV into a small back road, screeching to a halt in front of an abandoned warehouse.

He smashed open his door and darted into the warehouse, neglecting to even lock the door of his ride. He didn't care. There were more important problems tonight.

He stepped into a darkened section of the warehouse, and glanced around. Suddenly the door slammed, and an evil laugh filled the air.

"Really, Fenton, did you believe you could take me on?"

A villain stepped from the shadows, chuckling as he looked at Jack.

"I've taken down…four, maybe five of the so-called heroes you have sent at me, as well as three full waves of the police department," the dark one reminded, "What makes you, a simple normal, think you can take me on?"

"You have my wife, spook," growled Jack.

"That I do," nodded the villain, "And the minute she gives birth, I will have the son I've always wanted, and Madeline will have no choice but to be the wife I always wanted."

"What're you talking about, Plasmius?" demanded Jack.

"Isn't it obvious," chuckled Plasmius, "Who do you think I am, Jack?"

"I don't know your identity," snapped Jack, "Now give me Maddie."

The unnaturally angry Jack raised his hands. The Fenton Ghost Gloves were worn on them, ready to take on the ghostly villain.

"The answer is no, I'm afraid," snarled Plasmius, "Shall we?"

He fired an ectoblast at Jack's head. Jack ducked under the blast, before his jumpsuit brought out an ectopistol and fired three bursts at Plasmius, who easily dodged.

Jack lunged at his opponent, his great girth knocking the smaller Plasmius back. Plasmius scowled, and returned a kick into Jack's gut. As Jack flinched from the wound, the dark one gave a punch to the larger man's jaw.

Angrily, Jack grabbed Plasmius, picked him up, and flipped him hard onto the ground behind him. He then stepped back, applying pressure to Plasmius' chest. The ghost cringed, and turned intangible, rolling out from under Jack.

Plasmius jumped to his feet and delivered a swift uppercut to Jack's chin, followed by another punch down over his head. Jack fell back, but regained his composure and returned a punch into Plasmius' jaw, followed by a knee into the chest.

Plasmius licked his lip, and tasted his pink ectoplasmic blood. He had several bruises, but still looked the cleaner of the two. Jack had a cut on his chin from the uppercut, one on his left cheek and many bruises.

Plasmius grinned. He could keep this up for far longer then Jack could.

Plasmius leapt at Jack, grapping the larger man in a stranglehold. Jack elbowed his attacker in the stomach, but Plasmius only flinched at little and delivered two punches – one in the left eye, the other in the nose. He finally let go, and kicked Jack in the back.

The bigger man fell down face first. Before he could get up, he found Plasmius' foot on his back, prohibiting him.

"You are a fool, Fenton," sneered Plasmius, "I will tell that to _my_ wife. I will make sure that _my_ son and _my_ daughter are told every day what an utterly pathetic man Jack Fenton was-"

"NOO!"

Jack found strength he never thought he had, throwing Plasmius off his back. The ghost slammed into a wall, hitting the back of his head on the hard bricks.

Dizzily, and somewhat queasily, Plasmius looked at Jack, who was holding an ectopistol at his face.

"Now Jack," Plasmius begged, "You don't want to do this…"

"And why not?" growled Jack.

"B-because I'm VLAD!" yelled Plasmius, "I'm your best friend! You wouldn't do this to your best friend…YOU WOULDN'T!"

"No," agreed Jack, "I wouldn't kill my best friend."

Vlad calmed down.

"_You_ on the other hand…"

"Jack!"

Jack turned and watched as Maurice Foley, alias the Technomancer, entered the room, wheeling in a familiar woman on a wheelchair.

"Maddie, your…" began Jack.

"Don't do it, Jack," said Maddie, weakly, "He…he'll go to jail, he'll never harm us again, but if you killed him, you'd stoop to his level."

Jack nodded, and holstered his gun.

"Have you…"

"It's a boy," grinned Maddie, "I'm thinking…of Daniel for a name. We could call him…Danny…"

"LOOK OUT!"

The next few seconds played out in slow-motion for everyone.

Vlad had climbed to his feet, inciting Maurice's warning. He had aimed a massive ectoblast at the bespectacled man, but he was still dizzy and his aim was off. The massive wave hit Maddie in the wheelchair.

Jack's anguished scream echoed through the room as the blast vanished, leaving nothing but some burnt metal leaning off a part of the wheelchair had managed to survive.

Vlad stared in horror at the remains, his jaw dropped.

Maurice angrily aimed his hand. A wave of binary slammed into Plasmius, knocking the man unconscious.

The door slammed open and the police poured into the warehouse.

Then there was silence, save for a large man in an orange jumpsuit, shattered and on his knees.

It was days before Jack was emotionally capable to see his children, looked after by the Foley's. It was then that he named his new son.

Daniel Fenton. Danny for short.

* * *

_Fourteen Years Later…_

The Fenton RV drove down the Walter Harris Memorial Drive, a secret road in the Rocky Mountains that civilians were not generally allowed along. One needed a special card for the guards to allow you onto it. For those who were allowed on it, the scenery was stunning.

The RV was full today. Maurice Foley was at the wheel (the vote had been unanimous against letting Jack drive). Jack sat next to him, talking about ghosts. Maurice's wife, Kimberly Foley, was sitting behind them, joining the (extremely one-sided) conversation. Jack's daughter, Jazz Fenton, looked boredly out the window, somewhat embarrassed by her father.

In the back, Danny Fenton was engaged in a conversation with the Foley's only son, Tucker.

"I'm telling you, Danny, things are looking up," beamed Tucker, "No more secrets, no more Dash, no more Lancer, just the cool stuff."

"The cool stuff?" demanded Danny, "Tucker, you're useless when you don't have any machines near you."

"For now," grinned Tucker, "Just wait until I learn how to do that cool binary thing dad can do!"

"What about your mom?" asked Danny, amused, "Aren't you looking forward to tapping the vast potential of _steam_?"

Kimberly Foley was known to the press as Steam Woman, due to having control over steam and steam-powered machines. Many people laughed off this power as useless, but Danny, Tucker and anyone who had ever operated a steam engine knew its scalding – and potentially deadly – properties. It was, after all, superheated water.

"Yeah, I guess that works too," nodded Tucker, absently, "But think about it. I'm the son of two of the top superheroes in the CONUS. You're the son of Jack Fenton, the man who took on Plasmius and lived."

Danny grimaced.

"Oh, sorry, forgot we don't bring that up," sighed Tucker.

"I know, it's OK," nodded Danny, "It's just depressing sometimes that my birthday is the anniversary of the day mom died."

"Our parents did all they could," reassured Tucker, "Like Mom said when we were five, we have our whole lives ahead of us."

"You actually remember that?" enquired Danny.

"Yeah," nodded Tucker, "It was the day you barfed in Jazz's face."

"I heard that!" snapped Jazz.

All three children were in the car to attend a top-secret academy in the Rockies for superhumans. There, they'd be taught to harness their powers for the sake of good. The academy did not have a particular age for a particular grade – you started when you got the letter, no questions asked. Jazz had been the second oldest new student in history, surpassed only by Irving 'Third Degree' Burns, a particularly inept firemancer.

Jazz and Danny shared the same power, something common in siblings, and that was the same as their late mother, Maddie Fenton. They had, in essence, ghost powers – the ability to turn intangible and invisible. They could also fly. Tucker, meanwhile, had inherited from his parents, combining elements of Maurice's technomancy and Kimberly's steam control.

Suddenly, the Fenton RV was plunged into darkness as it entered a long tunnel. When it came out again, they were inside a small underground parking lot, patrolled by a sole (extremely bored looking) sentry.

Maurice parked the RV and the sentry walked up to the window.

"ID?" he asked, in dull monotone.

Maurice pulled out an ID and showed it to the man.

"Maurice Foley, alias Technomancer, you're clear to pass," the sentry sighed.

The group got out of the car and headed towards the edge of the car park. Maurice swiped the card on a control panel on the wall. The wall moved aside, revealing a secret passage.

A man and a woman were waiting for them. The man had cropped brown hair and wore a white suit, while the woman had short blonde hair and wore a black suit.

"Greetings, Mr. Fenton, Mr. Foley, Mrs. Foley," smiled the man, totally ignoring Danny, Tucker and Jazz, "I'm Operative C, the liaison guy from the Guys In White…"

"…and I'm Agent 16, from MERF," the woman interrupted.

"I thought the GIW and MERF hated each other?" mused Danny.

The Guys In White and the Military Extra Terrestrial Research Facility (MERF) were two top secret branches of the United States Government, that were known for being rather vigorous in executing their plans, and for wishing horrible deaths on each other.

"We do," nodded Agent 16, brightly, "We work together in the interests of the people…and making sure none of you commit high treason."

Danny gulped.

The agent and operative led the group to an elevator. It was a short trip on it, but for some reason Danny felt queasy. What he didn't know was that the lift was being propelled hundreds of miles below the ground, then about twenty six kilometres east, and finally all the way up to surface level. If there hadn't been gravitational stabilizers, the group would have been thrown around at really, really, really dangerous force.

The elevator pinged as it reached its final destination, a computerized voice announced 'Academy Foyer' and the doors opened.

Danny gasped.

The foyer was easily the size of his house, gleaming silver and well polished. It was rather like a hospital foyer, come to mention it, except it was full of superhumans, guys from the government, machines, creatures that were most definitely not human and…was that a tank?

As they walked through, Danny caught some figures. The tank turned out to be Walter Harris' (the Red Devil's) personal tank, a Centurion Tank with liberal upgrades. Trees of both human and alien nature stood in pot plants, some tall enough to reach the roof. Three statues of the world's most renowned superheroes stood in the centre, looking extremely heroic.

They were ushered towards a gathering of people, obviously the new students and their families. Danny noticed that there were fewer then he had expected.

A woman stepped to the front of the crowd. Danny recognised her at once as the Principal, who had given him his letter personally. No one knew her name, just her position. Danny suspected it was probably her secret identity or something.

"Students!" the Principal declared, "You are standing in the shadow of the three of the greatest superhumans in our history."

She pointed to each one in turn.

"Walter Harris, the Red Devil, Britain's saviour in the dark days of 1940. Successfully fought off the Herrenmensch at Arras, allowed the British Army to escape at Dunkirk and changed the course of history!"

"Our very own Stan Richards, the GI, who fought of the German Army in the Battle of the Bulge, worth the same amount as a thousand tanks and planes! Defeated the Aryan outside Nuremberg and brought him to justice!"

"Sing Li-Mai, the Maiden of the Yellow River, stopped the Japanese advanced into China, and prevent the Soviet Union from placing her home into their sphere by defeating the Peoples Warrior…"

Danny stifled a yawn. He'd never been into history, which was probably why he was getting a D in it at Casper High.

"You could be as great as these people! All it requires is application…"

"Get on with it!" someone in the crowd bellowed.

"Of course," the Principal nodded, curtly, "Without further ado, I present the man overseeing the inauguration here today, our sponsor, Mr. Richard Tang."

The Principal stepped aside, allowing the richer man onto the podium.

"I'm going to keep this short and to the point," Mr. Tang began.

A heckler cheered, receiving a glare from Mr. Tang.

"Tang Industries will only fund the best of the best," he continued, "I am sure we have found the best right here."

"Rehearsed," whispered Tucker.

"I am sure all students here, regardless on gender, race or _family linage_, will excel at this academy. That is all."

Danny turned around and saw his father scowling. He suddenly realized that Mr. Tang's emphasis of the words 'family linage' was aimed at him and his fist clenched.

Mr. Tang walked off the stage, adjusting his tie as he went. He shot a dark glare at the Fentons. Jack returned it.

The nest half-hour was very, very boring. Danny, Tucker and Jazz were ordered to stand around in the foyer. One at a time, students were called in to talk to the Principal and official dignitaries. They were then sent into the main school.

Jazz was sent in first, then Tucker. All alone, Danny suddenly realized his heart was beating faster then normal. What if they didn't accept him? How would his dad take it if he walked out, and had to explain that they were sending him right back to Casper?

"Daniel Fenton?" called a voice.

Danny stood up, trembling. Jack saw this and put his hand on his son's shoulder.

"You'll be fine," he reassured.

Danny nodded.

"See you, dad."

"Goodbye, Danny," farewelled Jack.

Danny headed to the person who had called him. It was a man, looking visibly uncomfortable in a suit he'd obviously been forced to wear.

"My name's Hugh," the man greeted, as they walked down the corridor, "Now, I know it's hard to go to a new school, especially a superhuman one, but I'm sure you'll do just great, I went here for years and everyone accepted me, they used to tell me things like _'aw man, you stink!'_ and _'go back to your hole!'_ it was the best time of my life!

Danny smiled. Despite talking his ear off, Danny liked this man.

They entered a forbidding-looking office, a small one with a desk, and a wall of pictures labelled 'Greatest Students'. The Principal and Mr. Tang were standing inside.

"Name," the Principal asked.

"Hugh Ne…"

"I meant the student, Lint Man."

"Daniel Fenton," greeted Danny.

"Alter-ego."

"What?" demanded Danny.

Mr. Tang rolled his eyes.

"Alter-ego," the Principal repeated, dryly, "Your superhuman name."

"Oh, yeah, that," nodded Danny.

He remembered talking with Tucker a while back on a secret identity. Danny picked the one they had eventually decided on.

"Phantom, ma'am," he replied, "Danny Phantom."

"Former school?"

"Casper High," answered Danny.

"Age on emergence of powers?"

"Five."

"Current age?"

"Fourteen."

"IQ?"

"Untested."

"Probably brick-level, given your father," snarled Mr. Tang.

Danny ignored him.

"Powers?"

"Ghost stuff," replied Danny, "Right now, I've got intangibility, invisibility and flight, that's all I know. I think I might be able to fire ectoblasts like Jazz can…"

"We'll just say 'spectralmancy'," nodded the Principal.

"Did you make that word up?"

"Yes."

The Principal filled in the sheet and looked Danny in the eye.

"You came in with Tuckard Foley and Jasmine Fenton, did you not?" she asked.

"Yeah," nodded Danny.

"The three of you were recommended for the elite class by an anonymous source," explained the Principal, "We have overviewed the application and accepted…"

"What?" snapped Mr. Tang, "That's absurd!"

"Come now, Richard."

"No!" bellowed Mr. Tang, "You're letting the son of the halfwit wonder into the…"

"SHUT UP ABOUT MY DAD!" screamed Danny, jumping to his feet.

For a few moments, there was silence. Danny and Mr. Tang were glaring daggers at each other. If looks could kill, the whole site would be radioactive.

At last, the Principal spoke.

"Richard, please watch your tongue," she ordered, "Mr. Fenton, please calm down."

Danny sat back down.

"Your mother was Madeline Fenton?" asked the Principal.

"Yeah," nodded Danny, "I got my powers from her."

"I see," replied the Principal, "We expect great things of you, Mr. Fenton. Please follow Lint Man into the school. Richard, I'd like to speak with you alone."

Danny got up and followed Hugh out the door.

The Principal spoke, not looking at Mr. Tang.

"You should control your temper, Richard," she reminded.

"How would you know, Madame Stoic?" sighed Mr. Tang, rolling his eyes, "There are three kinds of people in this world; us, normals and Jack Fenton. There's a caste system, ma'am, and Fenton needs to learn his place…"

"Dangerous talk, Richard."

Danny heard this discussion, but shrugged it off as a large door at the end of the corridor opened and he stepped into the academy…


	12. 12 10 10: In Witch I Make A Witty Pun

See what I did there? Dur hur hur.

Sorry if it seems rushed - it's a busy week this week.

Review replies;

**TweenisodeOrange:** An extremely lucky guess, I suppose. XD Don't put yourself down, I'm sure you'll finish it eventually. Thanks for reading.

**Cartooniac55:** I'm glad you liked it. Thanks for reviewing!

**Movie-Brat:** Problem is, I don't have much to show. I tried to plan it out first, but my brain hit a traffic light and I ended up with a blank piece of paper. Anyway, thanks for the review!

**unknown20troper:** Well, superheroes _are_ cool :D. Thanks very much!

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** Maybe I'll write more some day :). Thanks!  
**

* * *

12/10/10 – In Witch I Make a Witty Pun**

Witch Ember ducked behind a corner as I indiscriminately fired the particle beam in her general direction, laughing insanely. Sandy rolled her eyes and fired a rocket at the witch, who jumped out of the way. Unfortunately, she jumped into Spongebob's trunk, and was thrown twenty-five metres down the street.

If you've just joined us, I'd recommend going back to the 'shot on the sixth. Otherwise, that sentence will sound like I was on drugs.

Linkara walked over, looking confused.

"What the heck is going on here?" he demanded.

"Oh, we're just fighting a witch duplicate of Ember," I replied, "As you can see, Spongebob's become able to transform into animals, Sandy's turned into a transformer and I am carrying a particle beam. Same old, same old."

"Ooooo…K then," said Linkara, slowly, "What did you do this time?"

"Tried to scam a witch," I shrugged, "Now, if you'll excuse me."

I aimed the particle beam at Witch Ember. It promptly clicked uselessly.

"Aw crap, I'm out of ammo!" I cursed.

"Ammo? It's a _particle beam!_" snapped Linkara.

"Yeah, I don't really get it either."

Witch Ember dusted herself off, and glared at us. Her eyes looked like they were on fire.

"Ok, dipsticks," she snarled, "No more Ms. Nice Girl."

She raised her hands, forming a ball of flame above her head.

We stared for a few seconds.

"This is gonna suck," sighed Sandy, at last.

Witch Ember held her palms out, releasing the ball of flame towards Spongebob and Sandy. Both were enveloped by the fireball. When the flames dissipated, they were back to normal, if a little dizzy.

There was a short silence.

"RUN AWAY!" yelled Spongebob, at last.

We bolted down the street, me dragging Linkara with us.

"Can't we have it easy for once?" sighed Sandy, "Just once?"

"Evidently not," I replied.

We ducked into another store (this one sold tools), ran into the basement and locked the door.

"Well, we're in the basement again," I sighed, "What do we do?"

"Wait until she gets bored and goes away?" shrugged Spongebob.

"She's a demonic witch," replied Linkara, "They don't tend to get bored."

"Maybe if we run like hell, we can get home," I mused, "I've got something there…works well against demons."

"Have we got any other choice?" sighed Sandy.

"No," replied Linkara, pulling out his magic gun, "Get ready to run."

(INSERT BENNY HILL THEME HERE.)

We kicked open the door (knocking Witch Ember out of the way in the process) and began running down the street, the witch in hot pursuit. She threw balls of magic at us indiscriminately.

We jumped into a taxi that happened to be parked nearby, and I paid the driver (who just happened to be Hugh Neutron) to floor it. Witch Ember jumped on a broom and flew above the town.

Lighting erupted from her hands, slamming across the city like…lighting, I guess.

"What's she doing?" I asked.

"I don't know, maybe she's just an awful shot," shrugged Linkara.

"Or maybe she's casting a spell on the whole city," rebutted Sandy.

We thought for a second.

"Nah!" me, Spongebob and Hugh grinned.

We pulled up at the door to my house and ran inside. Running into the review room, I rifled through my drawer as Linkara, Spongebob and Sandy took guard at the door. Hugh, meanwhile, sat in the cab and sung the theme to Duck Tales.

I grinned as I pulled out my secret weapon.

"M1928 Anti-Daemon Thompson Sub-Machine Gun," I grinned, "The Anti-Magic Tommy Gun."

I whistled as I walked over to the door.

"OK, guys, I figure we're…"

I stopped.

Spongebob, Sandy and Linkara were staring, wide-eyed, out the window. A crowd had assembled in front of my house. All of them had one thing in common.

Every one of them was an exact duplicate of Ember. There were doctor Embers, police Embers, any profession you could name.

"Oh my god," gasped Linkara.

"Yeah…this would get hundreds of hits on DeviantArt," I agreed.

There was a cackle, and Witch Ember landed her broom in front of the crowd.

"I figured I couldn't follow you everywhere," she grinned, "So I brought 'me' to everyone in town."

"So you ripped off the Master," growled Linkara, "It doesn't matter. We've got a secret weapon."

I waved the Anti-Magic Tommy Gun at the crowd.

"You think that'll save you from a whole crowd of me?" chuckled Witch Ember.

"No," replied Sandy, "But if we destroy you, the spell is broken!"

"How do you know that?" demanded Witch Ember.

"It's written on a post-it note on your broom," replied Spongebob.

Witch Ember groaned as she ripped off the note.

"This is your last chance, Witchy McLain," I snapped, "Back down, or I use force."

Witch Ember looked at me for a bit, and then chuckled evilly.

"Well, baby pop, you came here wanting to find a witch," she began, "But you didn't expect to be facing…"

She began to glow, as did the entire crowd of copies. They turned into light and began to combine. We watched in horror as they formed into a single body, a single Witch Ember, ten times her normal size and towering over my house like a…really big person.

"…_**A GOD! …**__ess,"_ she finished, before giving an evil cackle.

"Funk and Wagnall!" exclaimed Linkara.

"That is one mighty big witch," gulped Sandy.

"What do we do?" gasped Spongebob.

"She's hot!" I blurted.

The other three gave me strange looks.

"…err, I mean, this is terrible…yes," I nodded, scratching my head.

**To Be Continued?**


	13. 13 10 10: Legendaries

I really enjoyed writing this one.

Incidentally, I'd like to say in advance that no offense is meant by this fic, nor is there any favouritism to Britain intended. This is merely a (rather cracky) 'what if.' Also, I recommend you have wiki opened when you read this. There are a few obscure historical figures in this.

Now, review replies;

**TweenisodeOrange:** Yeah, they can get pretty odd over there (like vore...ugh), but it's also got great fanart, so...yeah. XD Thanks for reading!

**Cartooniac55:** I love Linkara's inabililty to swear :D. Thanks for reviewing!

**Movie-Brat:** I'll see if I can write an outline tomorrow. With luck, we can still work something out here. Thanks for the review!

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** Well, I ran out of time, so I had to make a Part Three. I like bizarre humour, as you can probably tell. XD Thanks very much!

**unknown20troper: **I'm glad you liked it! Thanks.  
**

* * *

13/10/10 – Legendaries**

The column drove through the Dutch town of Nijmegen, heading east to join the troops on the offensive.

It was Tuesday, September 19th 1944. The Allied armies were on the advance – a large scale airborne and ground operation, Operation Market Garden, was underway. The Twenty-First Army Group, under the command of Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery, was hoping to obtain a bridge over the Rhine River at Arnhem, not far down the road. If this was opened, there would be nothing in the way of an Allied advance to Berlin itself.

Already, things were going badly wrong. German forces in the area were much stronger then initially anticipated, and the paratrooper landings were poorly-coordinated. Now, the British First Airborne Division was trapped in Arnhem, surrounded on all sides by elite SS troops. The XXX Corps, supported by the American 82nd and 101st Airborne Divisions, were advancing at snails pace down a narrow road that the troops had christened 'Hell's Highway.'

In one of the column's jeeps, four soldiers were talking, somewhat pessimistically, about the ongoing battle.

"This thing was doomed from the start," sighed Corporal Danny Fenton, "We should be backing Patton."

"It's still got a chance," rebutted Private Arnold Shortman, "I mean, we _are_ pushing the Germans back…"

"Slowly," cut in Danny.

"Monty _did_ say he had a 'special tactic' up his sleeve," added Private Tommy Pickles.

"He's probably gonna bomb them or something," shrugged Private Tino Tontini.

"With what?" demanded Danny, "All our bombers are in England and they're downed by the weather!"

"Artillery?" shrugged Tommy.

"Tried it," sighed Danny, "Didn't work."

By now, the column had left the town, and was heading down the road.

"Well, it's gotta be something," mused Tino.

The column halted, the soldiers getting a nice view of the rear of a British tank.

"Oh, now what?" demanded Danny.

He banged on the back of the tank with his rifle.

"What is this, your tea break?" he demanded.

There was the sound of rushing wind, and the soldiers looked to the horizon. Three specks could be seen in the distance.

"They look like fighters," noted Tommy, "Maybe that's his plan – air support."

Danny looked through his binoculars, and his eyes widened.

"Those…aren't fighters," he replied, slowly.

The flying objects zoomed above the convoy. There were three of them – all giant birds. Each was a different colour – one yellow, one blue and one red. They screeched into the distance, and were gone.

"The _hell?_" snapped Danny, "Since when were there giant birds in Holland?"

"Maybe they're from a zoo?" considered Tino.

In the distance, the sounds of gunshots and explosions could be heard. Then, the horizon was lit by strikes of lighting, fireballs and what appeared to be an ice-storm, if that were possible.

"…I think that was his plan," stuttered Tommy, shocked.

Then, all was quiet, and the column advanced.

* * *

October 4th, 1944.

Patton was livid. His mouth was almost frothing with rage. It had been very unfortunate, Veronica noted, that she'd been interviewing him when he'd gotten the news.

"How did he let that f**king Limey do it?" he demanded, yelling in the face of the envoy from General Eisenhower, "How is he outflanking the goddamn Siegfried Line, and I'm sitting here on empty gas tanks?"

"H-he has leftover fuel reserves from the recent success…" the envoy began.

"_Success?_ They're the goddamn _Limeys!_ They wouldn't know success if it was shoved up their ass!" boomed Patton.

"…s-sir, they-they are our allies, sir," the envoy stammered.

"_Allies?_" cried Patton, "They're trying to goddamn steal Berlin from us!"

The envoy had no reply.

"Anything else?" snapped Patton, his face still red in anger.

"Err…a message from General Bradley, sir," continued the envoy, "He's threatening to resign unless General Eisenhower cuts off Monty's supplies."

"Good," nodded Patton, "Tell Ike that if Brad goes, I go."

He stormed out the door.

The envoy scratched his head, and turned to Veronica.

"Sorry about that," he murmured, "Uh…he may be able to finish the interview later."

Veronica nodded.

"Should…should I take you back to your car?" the envoy asked.

"Sure, Mr…um…"

"Lieutenant Jimmy Neutron, ma'am," replied the envoy.

Veronica nodded, and followed him out the door.

* * *

October 10th, 1944.

Winston Churchill sat in his office at 10 Downing Street, an unamused expression on his face as he read the paper.

**CRISIS IN ALLIED COMMAND**, it read, **BRADLEY AND PATTON THREATEN TO RESIGN.**

He gave a snort. The newspaper (a British one) had noticeably refrained from explaining the main cause of the crisis – Montgomery. The field marshal was now well into North-western Germany, most of Holland cleared of German forces. His 'secret weapon' certainly was effective, and needed few supplies, but that hadn't stopped him from demanding more then his share of fuel and munitions.

The latter had been the last straw for General Omar Bradley, the commander of the majority of US troops in Western Europe. He had marched into General Eisenhower's headquarters in France and threatened to resign if Monty was not removed or restrained.

Meanwhile, the Premier of the Soviet Union, Josef Stalin, was frantically calling for a conference between the Allies, fearing that the British and Americans would take the lion's share of Germany. Bloody good for him, Churchill thought – the less he got, the better.

He sighed, and called for a brandy. Let Eisenhower sort out his generals, he decided. For now, his main concern was winning the war.

* * *

October 23rd, 1944.

Chester shuddered as the bunker rocked under heavy artillery fire, nearly dropping his folders. Regaining his composure, he continued down the hall and entered the office.

"About time, McBadbat," snapped Dash, crossing his arms, "Any longer and you'd be reporting to the enemy!"

There was no jest in his voice.

"Deliver them," demanded Dash, pointing to the door behind him, "I don't wanna face him right now."

Chester gulped, and walked through the door, folders still in hand.

The next office belonged to Martin Bormann, the Fuhrer's secretary. Bormann grabbed the folders without a word, grimaced, and got up, beckoning Chester to follow.

Chester's heart sank. He knew what was coming next.

Bormann led him to another room, bigger then the others in the bunker, with a large map of the world on the wall. At the single desk sat a pale, shaking and broken man.

Adolf Hitler glanced up as Bormann handed him the files.

He glanced over them, his hands shaking more as he read each word.

Then he exploded.

Hitler marched about the room, throwing accusations out seemingly at random. As he had his tantrum, Chester caught a glimpse at the report on the table.

_Allies have crossed the Rhine at most points. Most of Army Group B (armies west of the Rhine River) has been annihilated – von Rundstedt and Model presumed dead or captured._

It would probably have been more correct to say something far different.

_We are screwed._

* * *

November 1st, 1944.

Danny, Arnold, Tommy and Tino stood next to a jeep, standing guard over an assortment of generals. They were looking over a rise – a city was visible in the distance.

"I can't believe we're in sight of Berlin," noted Danny.

"Yeah, but if we are, why are we having a conference about it?" asked Arnold, "Why doesn't the Twenty-First just advance on Berlin?"

"He needs permission from Ike," replied Tommy, "He's here for a 'weapon's demonstration'. We'll probably keep moving tonight or tomorrow."

He pointed to General Eisenhower, who was standing in front of the crowd, looking somewhat impatient. Behind him, Patton was giving a dark scowl (having been persuaded to stay by getting Bradley's now vacant position). Nearby, Winston Churchill was lighting a cigar, an impatient look on his face. A small crowd of war correspondents and reporters stood near them, waiting for one person.

Field Marshal Montgomery walked into the front of the crowd, adjusting his black beret as he did so. He held his hands behind his back, cleared his throat, and spoke.

"Gentlemen and members of the assembled press," he stated, confidently, "What I am about to show you is the weapon of fantastic power, that shall take the Twenty-First Army Group to Hitler's doorstep."

Patton clenched his fists. In the crowd, Jimmy leant over to Veronica and let out a whisper.

"That wording isn't gonna go down well," he hissed.

Monty continued, completely ignoring venomous whisperings among the American generals.

"I am completely sure," he explained, "That this display of Allied power will convince the remaining Axis powers and assorted ne'er-do-wells that continued resistance of our might is not feasible."

"He's talking about Japan, right?" asked Tino.

"Actually, I think he's talking about someone else," replied Arnold, warily.

"Stalin," nodded Danny.

Monty pointed towards Berlin, and said one, simple sentence.

"This is the future of armed conflict."

Like vultures, the same birds used in Market Garden zoomed overhead. Now, they were joined by what looked like a phoenix and three dragons, one larger then the others (which were nearly identical, save for one being red and one being blue). At the head of them, so much smaller then the others that one had to squint to see it, was a small, pink cat creature.

They rocketed over Berlin, and began to attack the city with all force. Great flashes of light prevented anything from being seen as the capital of Germany erupted into chaos.

Monty gave a somewhat smug grin to his audience, before motioning to a soldier nearby.

The solider nodded, and spoke into a radio.

"Twenty-First Army Group to proceed to Berlin, I repeat, Twenty-First to Berlin."

The ground shook, and British infantry and tanks could be seen advancing towards the city. Darting among the boxy _Cromwell_ tanks were three giant dogs (brown, yellow and blue), while three huge golems of steel, stone and ice marched in their vanguard.

Danny, Tommy, Arnold and Tino's jaws dropped.

Jimmy rubbed his eyes and shook his head as Veronica simply shook her head in disbelief.

Patton looked absolutely ropable, whilst Churchill looked at the advance in a combination of awe and anxiety.

If Monty's earlier grin was smug, then this one was utterly conceited.

"Gentlemen, I believe this business is just about over."

For once, there was no reply.


	14. 14 10 10: The Anti Depression Song!

I was reading a _delightful_ tale about Britain after a nuclear attack. It included such wonders as vapourising children, sick people being exempted from feeding, the complete destruction of society, the British Army turning into the SS, dead babies and tinned beans. I wrote this as a pick-me-up. After that description, you'll probably need one too.

Review Replies;

**TweenisodeOrange:** Maybe he found them in the back his couch? XD Thanks for reading.

**Movie-Brat: **Well, he was going to get Rodan, but MacArthur got him first :). Thanks's for reviewing!

**unknown20troper:** ...Digimon? XD Nah, it's Pokemon. Thanks for the review!

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** I made Dash and Chester Germans for both of those reasons. I mean, Nazi Germany was the most repulsive regieme in history, but not all Germans were maniacs. Not even most, in fact. (Though the SS...don't get me started on them.) I'm glad I made Patton sympathetic - I was trying very hard to avoid making him sound like a prick. Anyway, thanks very much!

**Cartooniac55:** Yep, it's Veronica Star. I'll have to see that Futurama episode sometime. Also, Pokemon and WWII's a combo I've planned for a while, although the original concept (which I may revisit) was Hitler invading the Kanto Region instead of the USSR. Thanks!  
**

* * *

14/10/10 – The Anti-Depression Song**

It's the Anti-Depression Song,  
Find your own tune and sing along,  
When everything is just going wrong,  
Sing the Anti-Depression Song!

Y'know it could always be worse,  
Some bugger could nick your purse,  
You could be dogged by a ghost warden,  
'Till yer wanted and need a lot of antiprofin!

Lads and lasses, just give us a smile,  
A metre of grin is worth a frown of a mile,  
Even if your teacher's taken over the world,  
There's no need to get you stress unfurled.

It's the Anti-Depression Song,  
Find your own tune and sing along,  
When everything is just going wrong,  
Sing the Anti-Depression Song!

When you're down in the dumps and you've had a bad day,  
Just sing this little song and it will all go away,  
Better yet, it will probably make you forgot,  
That your pet was prob'ly murdered by the vet.

From the Waffen-SS to the knight that's on fire,  
Just sing this song and image somewhere you would desire,  
Just laugh and smile and make all of your fears go away,  
And forget that Jason Voorhees gonna kill you today!

It's the Anti-Depression Song,  
Find your own tune and sing along,  
When everything is just going wrong,  
Sing the Anti-Depression Song!

'cause there's Nazis and there's Reapers and there's skeletons,  
There's mind-controlling buckets and there's EL-E-PHANT,  
Don't forget that brightest of conceptions that humans can say,  
We'll all be vaporised come nuclear day!

But just forget these things and focus on the bright side,  
Of flowers and of poems and of pony rides,  
Of birds and trees and pretty things all by the riverside,  
And that feeling when you put to death another guy!

Wait…

All these things combine to make a good ol' place,  
It's not completely perfect but it's not a waste,  
So fans of all things fictitious, Casablanca to Jake Long,  
Settle down and sing the world's most optimistic song!

It's the Anti-Depression Song,  
Find your own tune and sing along,  
When everything is just going wrong,  
Sing the Anti-Depression Song!

It's the Anti-Depression Song,  
Sung by all from Ghandi to the great King Kong,  
And Zim and Bloo and Genghis Khan and…John,  
Sing the Anti-Depression Song!

Yes it's the Anti-Depression…Song!

* * *

It is the Anti-Depression Song.


	15. 15 10 10: Masters of War

Here you go. Sweet dreams! This is inspired by the story I read yesterday.

This one has a song to go with it - I've tried not to make it a songfic, but...yeah. http : / / www . youtube . com / watch?v=AziM5nSk3es&feature=related

Review replies;

**TweenisodeOrange:** Yeah, I don't like it much either, I just needed someone that rhymed with 'song.' Thanks for reading!

**unknown20troper:** Well, if the song made you happy, you may need to read it again when you're done here XD. Thanks for reviewing.

**Cartooniac55:** Yup. :D It was fun to write. Unlike this, in fact. Thanks for the review!

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** 'Protect and Survive', here's the link. http : / / www . alternatehistory . com / discussion /showthread . php?t=164027 And yay! You know what AH is! Thanks very much.

**

* * *

15/10/10 – Masters of War**

_Come you Masters of War,  
you that build the big guns,  
you that build the death planes,  
you that build all the bombs…_

"…leading Dimmsdale to defeat yet again," sighed Chet Ubetcha, a bored expression on his face as he read out the sports news, "Now, to the weath…"

He was cut off as a hand passed him a piece of paper. Chet glanced over it, and his eyes widened.

"Uh…we have late breaking news," he announced, "Two hours ago, Soviet troops marched into West Germany…we have reports of heavy American and NATO casualties around…around the border and-and Berlin. We'll bring you further news as it unfolds."

Chet mopped his pale brow.

"Um…anyway, on to the weather," he stammered.

_

* * *

You never done nothing,  
but build to destroy,  
you play with my world,  
like it's your little toy…_

"…the President has been evacuated to an undisclosed location," the Chief of the Guys in White explained to his assembled agents in the GiW's Amity Park Headquarters, "We expect to lose contact with Washington in the event of a launch, so regional command has been passed down to the Mayor…"

Invisible and intangible, Dani hung over the meeting, wondering what they were talking about. She didn't understand, really. Nobody did.

Shrugging, she flew off, in the direction of the Fenton Works. If the Mayor was taking control of the army, Danny needed to know.

* * *

…_you put a gun in my hand,  
and you hide from my eyes,  
then you turn and run farther,  
when the fast bullets fly…_

Panic.

Within the NATO strategic headquarters in London, chaos had broken out; officers, soldiers and civil servants ran back and forth, yelling commands and orders.

Damon Grey buried his head in his hands. No-one knew who or why or how – but a nuclear device had been detonated over Germany. Soviet response was inevitable – the end could come any minute now.

Damon sighed into the phone as he talked to his daughter, all the way in Amity Park.

"Val," he sighed, "I…I just want to tell you that I love you, alright?"

"_Dad, what's going on?_"

Damon mulled for two seconds, then he told the biggest lie he'd ever say.

"Everything's gonna be alright, Valerie."

* * *

The Soviets launched about a minute after that phone call.

Within four minutes, the first nukes would be hitting Great Britain.

In thirty minutes, America would be hit.

In five hours, the war would be over.

_

* * *

Like Judas of old,  
you lie and deceive,  
a World War can be won,  
you want me to believe…_

"…I'm Lance Thunder, reporting from London," Lance stated, standing in front of the Houses of Parliament, "NATO command is in frenzy as unconfirmed reports of a nuclear detonation have come in from Germany. We…"

Behind him, he heard the high pitched wail of an air-raid siren, and the crowds around him erupted into panic.

"…uh, it seems like an attack is inevitable," he stammered, "We-we'd like…the thirty-minute warning is-is now in eff-effect."

Lance hurriedly dotted down orders for the population at home, shaking more and more every second, until at last, he was openly weeping on screen.

"I…I just want to thank…thank you all," he shuddered, "And…and to my daughter…I want you to kn

* * *

Amity Park had one dedicated shelter from nuclear weapons. This was now full to capacity. Despite this, crowds of desperate citizens were banging on the gates to the compound, desperate to get in. The soldiers, confused and frightened themselves, bashed at their faces and stomachs with the butts of their rifles and shotguns.

The Chief of the Guys in White barked an order to the soldiers, police and agents guarding the fence.

The defenders aimed their weapons and fired into the crowd.

* * *

The Neutrons, the Wheezers and the Estevez' huddled in Jimmy's lab, as the boy genius watched a display on VOX. It was a map of the world – a haunting, terrifying one.

It was lit up by several red dots, but the dots covering Western Europe were going off in a rapid succession.

Then the dot representing Baltimore went off. The first bomb had hit US soil.

* * *

Dani was halfway to the Fenton Works when she saw it in the distance.

A mushroom cloud was blossoming far away over what was once Chicago, while an air-raid siren wailed over her head.

Dani phased into intangibility and shut her eyes, instinctually bracing herself.

Even with her eyes shut, the flash hurt her eyes.

Thankfully for her sanity, the sound of the shockwave drowned out the horrible cries of those incinerated around her.

* * *

At the same time, hundreds of American and NATO missiles and bombers took off, heading to the Soviet Union to enact terrible revenge. For the bombers, only half would return – some had no airfields to return to, some failed mid-flight, and some pilots deliberately crashed after the run, unable to bear what they had wrought.

_

* * *

You fasten all the triggers,  
for the others to fire,  
then you sit back and watch,  
as the death counts get higher…_

Jimmy climbed out of his lab entry into what used to be his house. The entire street had been demolished – by now, the army and fire department on the scene.

He watched as one his neighbours, skin burnt off, melted eyes and agonized moaning, crawled out of the shell of his home. He watched as a soldier walked up to him, drew his pistol – and shot the man in the head.

"What the hell was that?" demanded one of the firemen, turning to face the soldier.

"Mercy," snapped the soldier, "That guy was dead anyway."

Jimmy watched as the soldiers spread out, executing the most horribly wounded people and moving away the rest. He wiped away tears and climbed back into his lab.

* * *

The centre of Amity Park was like a desert – flattened by the bomb, with nothing left standing.

Dani stood in the middle, surrounded by suffocating ash and a terrific stink. Shakily floating out of the area, she reached fresh(er) air…and wished that she hadn't.

The ground was littered with burnt skeletons and charred rubble, and the stench was even worse. She glanced at a few of them in horror – some were moving.

"Oh my god," she whispered, "They're-they're still alive…"

Then she realised what she was breathing in – what the ashes were.

Dani keeled over and vomited.

She took about twenty minutes to regain her strength, and walked onward, towards the Fenton Works.

There was nothing for her there. The building was gone - collapsed in on its basement. If the Fenton's had been sheltering there…at least it would have been quick.

Dani shook her had and choked out a sob. It wasn't a war. It was the end of the world.

* * *

Vlad stood outside the shelter, three days after the detonation. The chief was dead, the media was dead – he was in charge, the King of his own Wasteland Kingdom. If this area was going to survive – and it would – he was going to need to be cruel.

He had, therefore, sent out an order to the soldiers.

Only those who could work would be fed.

_

* * *

You've thrown the worst fear,  
that can ever be hurled,  
fear to bring children,  
into the world…_

It was a pathetic, sickening sight, and Valerie wasn't pleased to be part of it.

Homeless people, sitting on the remains of their buildings, staring lifelessly at the soldiers and police who handed out rations. The dead still littered the street – there was no time to bury them.

Valerie handed rations – a pitifully small bag of god-knew what – to a woman, and made to continue. She felt a hand grasp her leg, and turned around.

The woman pointed to a little bundle next to her. It was a little baby, asleep in a filthy rag, covered in soot and dried blood.

Valerie shook her head.

"We can't feed anyone that can't work," she said, softly.

The woman said nothing, but gave Valerie a desperate, heartbreaking look.

Valerie glanced left and right, seeing no officers or officials. Seeing none, she picked up the baby…and her heart broke.

The baby was not asleep. It was dead. It had most likely been so for some time.

Valerie handed back the bundle, gave an apologetic look, and walked away. She tried her best to ignore the wailing mother as she moved on to the next person.

* * *

Jimmy was huddled against the entrance to his lab, trying to sleep, when he heard a knock. He opened the door to find a soldier, rifle in hand.

"Sir, we need you to leave," the soldier ordered.

"No," replied Jimmy, bluntly.

"Sir, please," replied the soldier, "We need this place for the homeless. They can't hang around the street, they…"

"Then let them in, they'll fit," snapped Jimmy.

The soldier's expression hardened.

"Sir, this place has been designated for medical use," he said, firmly, "If you do not leave, we will…"

"I'm not leaving," growled Jimmy.

"Please," begged the soldier.

Jimmy said nothing.

Then there was a bang, and Jimmy fell back, a hole in his head. The soldier's commanding officer had arrived, pistol in hand.

"Clear out the building," he snapped to his squad, "No questions."

The soldier who had interrogated Jimmy gave his CO an apologetic look. The CO responded by aiming his pistol at the soldier's head.

The squad piled into the lab. There were shouts, gunshots and then…nothing.

* * *

"Daniel's dead, Danielle," sighed Vlad, as he and Dani stood in the mayor's office in the Amity shelter.

Dani said nothing.

"We're the last half-ghosts left," Vlad continued, "Perhaps even the last ghosts that can reach this earth. We can return to my mansion – I confirmed it wasn't hit, and from there, we can rebuild this planet…"

"…as rulers?" demanded Dani.

"Can you name anyone else who could?" asked Vlad, "We're hybrids of extraordinary power, combined with my net worth of course…"

"Let me ask you a question, Vlad," snapped Dani.

Vlad raised his eyebrow.

"Is your money that good?" asked Dani.

She stared Vlad in the eyes, and recited the rest of the verse.

"Will it buy you forgiveness?" she demanded, "Do you think that it could?"

She turned his back on him, looking at the posters on the wall – descriptions of drills and nuclear effects.

"I think that you'll find," she said, softly, "When your death takes its toll."

She turned back to Vlad, pure hate on her face.

"All the money you made won't buy back your soul."

She walked out, leaving Vlad alone.

* * *

Jimmy was thrown into a ditch, with his friends, family and a collection of dead strangers. The soldiers who buried them gave them no respect, no remorse. In their eyes, these people were lucky – they had seen the end of hell.

Valerie remained with Amity Park's 'law enforcers' for years, throughout the rise of Vlad Masters. Eventually, some semblance of life returned – a barbaric shadow of civilisation, at the will of those who could seize power after the end.

Dani wondered the world in the next ten years – the decimated wastes of North America, Russia and China, the struggling nations of Africa and South America, the fragile vainglory of the Australian Empire. After those ten years, she returned to Amity Park, to Vlad's little dictatorship, and she took him down…

_

* * *

And I hope that you die,  
and your death will come soon,  
I'll follow your casket,  
on a pale afternoon,_

_And I'll watch while you're lowered,  
down to your deathbed,  
and I'll stand over your grave,  
'till I'm sure that you're dead.

* * *

_END OF STORY

* * *

...and now for something completely different.

That story had a real meaning to it and I hope I've made you think. If not - meh.

Anyway, competition. Today's word is 'Fear.' Pretty standard word, really.

That's all, have a nice sleep, everyone!


	16. 16 10 10: Bum Reviews

Guys, I'd like to apologise for going a little bit preachy in that last one. I'd also _really_ like to apologise if anyone was disturbed by it. I was just inspired to make a point - nukes are bad. But yeah, I'll save that one for _Threads._

But anyway, enough of that, time for some review replies!

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** Post-apocolypic stuff is fun to write...I guess that makes me really messed up XP. As per the Australian Empire, I don't know who's in charge there - maybe it is Spongebob XD. Anyway, I'm glad you liked it, and thanks for reading!

**unknown20troper:** It was part of the song I used to write this. Admittedly, I don't know where'd she get the words from - maybe she likes Bob Dylan :]. Thanks for reviewing!

**Cartooniac55: **My sincerest apologies. Incidentally, and this is a bit off-topic, did you get a reply from Doug Walker yet? Thanks for the review!  
**

* * *

16/10/10 – …and now it's time for Bum Reviews**

…_and now it's time for Bum Reviews, with Chester A. Bum._

_Tonight's review…The Pits._

OH MY GOD! THIS IS THE GREATEST FANFIC I'VE EVER SEEN BEFORE IN MY LIFE!

So there's this guy, called Danny Phantom, and he has all the powers of a _ghost!_ And he gets captured (gasp!) by a big, mean scary ghost called Walker! And he says;

"_Danny Phantom, you have to fight for me!"_

And Danny's like;

"_Who says I do?"_

"_I have a knife."_

"_I'll fight."_

So he gets sent to this ghost prison, called the Pits, and he gets forced to fight in gladiamator contests…between ghosts! So he's like;

"_I don't want to kill you!"_ (Stab.) _"Oopsie."_

And he keeps fighting, and he's writing in this journal about his fighting, and he also makes friends with this talking rat!

Yeah, roll with it.

…and then, his ghost powers start melting into his human half – did I mention he had a ghost half? Well, he does because he's HALF GHOST!

_I _was half-ghost once!

No, wait, that was half-Swedish.

So he keeps fighting, and writing, and…sleeping, and you know what else? He ANGSTS a lot as well! I mean he's like;

"_Dear diary…today I murdered someone. I cried._"

But I guess he kinda has a point.

…and he also gets _shoulder people!_ You know, an angel and a devil? I wish I had one of those. Anyway, his devil is this _big evil future Danny Phantom_, and his angel is this…evil rocker ghost girl.

Yeah, roll with it.

…oh, and a lot of other stuff happens, but by then I was high, so I couldn't really tell anything apart – but it was awesome!

Anyway, you know what I want? I want ghost powers! Then I could fly around, and shoot people with the funny green beams, and I could see all the prettiful colourful ghost creatures without having to buy any whack!

This is Chester A. Bum saying…CHANGE? YA GOT SOME CHANGE? COME ON, HELP A GUY OUT, WILL YA? COME ON, CHANGE?

At least tell me where I can find a talking rat! I want one of those.

* * *

_Seriously, though, _The Pits_ is one of the best fics I've ever read._


	17. 17 10 10: Countdown

This isn't Picasso, but meh - it's Sunday. I'd tried to make this sound like a history book.

Also, I'm really feeling bad about this - I forgot to announce the author of The Pits. *headdesk* Anyway, it's Cordria, aka The Master Of Danny Phantom Fanfic. Go check her out.

Review replies;

**Movie-Brat:** Thanks very much! Good to see you back, and thanks for reading.

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** Yeah, I'll agree with you there. The Critic is awesome! Thanks for reviewing.

**Clockwork Oracle King:** I'm glad you liked it. Thanks for the review!

**TweenisodeOrange:** Yeah, it's as dark as it gets, and _very_ angsty. I'd still recommend it, though. Thanks very much!  
**

* * *

17/10/10 – Countdown  
**

It was a simple plan. Most of these things are.

The idea was first dreamt up by the scientific advisor to the Nicklands Republican Government, Dr. Madeline Fenton, late last year. It was a simple idea – to construct a device that could convert ectoplasm into energy – the ultimate fuel source.

It was tested around December, and it worked very well. The government ordered more tests, believing they'd found a cheap energy source, when one discovery changed everything.

It was called 'blue ectoplasm', and a large reserve of it was found in the ground around the long-abandoned 'air-temple' on the snow plains along the south-western coast of the country. A single vial of the stuff created ten times the energy of the entire yearly output of a cold-fusion plant. It was astounding – the government, the scientists, the inventors – all were ecstatic.

Ecstatic, that was, until they learnt of the drawback of blue ectoplasm.

In a test in his own, homerun lab in Retroville, James Isaac Neutron discovered that blue ectoplasm had a 55% chance of killing anyone who touched it, this percentage increasing for the amount of time the substance was handled.

Somewhat reluctantly, the government ordered the cancellation of mining in the area. The idea of infinite power and jobs it would provide seemed to die.

Along came the Prosperity Party.

The Prosperity Party was headed by Vlad Masters, and ran on a platform of national richness, increased employment…and a healthy dose of election fraud. It dominated the February elections, winning 212 of the 240 government seats. Mining of blue ectoplasm began within a month of their victory.

100,000 workers were put into the business, but despite all the safety measures, 30,000 were dead or seriously ill by April. Meanwhile, more catches in 'blue energy' were found – mainly that its use had a 12% chance of causing at least one electrical appliance in your house to either fail or explode. The failures were easily replaced for the well-to-do, but for the poor, losing their TV to a failure was a huge financial set-back. Having it blown up along with a section of their wall was even worse.

In May, a crisis broke out. 98% of the workers in the blue ectoplasm mines went on strike. In response, President Masters sent a contingent of riot police and soldiers to the area to force them to continue mining. Under the command of General Ernest T. Abercrombie, they clashed with the miners – one thing led to another, and live rounds were fired. Two soldiers and thirty-six miners were killed.

For the poor and the miners, those thirty-six became martyrs. Within two days, the strike turned into a general rebellion, and many or the nation's poor flocked to join them. Several figures, among them Maddie Fenton, rallied around a new leader – roboticist and scientist Dr. Nora Wakeman. The rebels spread out, capturing the large city of Klasky, about one-hundred miles from the snow plains, without a fight.

President Masters declared a general crisis. He ordered the deployment of five hundred heavy bomber aircraft, armed with conventional explosives, to Retroville AFB (Airfield Base) which was north of Klasky. On the first night of June, these bombers dropped some 15,000 tons on civilian areas of the city, killing and injuring two thousand.

Now, President Masters had established himself as the villain of the piece. Thousands of people who would have otherwise been apolitical joined the growing revolution. A military outpost, Fort Schneider on the coast of the north-western jungles and rainforests, mutinied and joined in. The city of Bikini Bottom (of the coast of the country) declared their support of the anti-government forces.

Civil war had broken out. With any luck, it would end soon.

* * *

Yay! I went one day without mentioning nukes!

...oh wait.


	18. 18 10 10: The Battle of my Front Lawn

...and now, the epic conclusion to the scam trilogy.

Review replies;

**Movie-Brat:** I'm glad you liked it. Thanks for reading!

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** It's funny you should request that...XD. Thanks for reviewing!

**Cartooniac55:** Don't worry, that's staying in the crackpairs thread. :D As per Ember being his shoulder angel...well, I don't want to reveal anything. :P Thanks for the review!

**unknown20troper:** I'm glad somebody got that. :) Thanks very much!  
**

* * *

18/10/10 – The Battle of my Front Lawn**

"_Hello, emergency services for the state of…_"

"Yes, I know," I snapped into the phone, "Listen, there is a giant witch outside my house."

"_Why is there are giant witch outside your house? There's no reason for there to be a giant witch outside your house!_"

"Yes, I know," I groaned, "Do you have anyway of getting rid of her?"

"_Have you tried breaking reality?_"

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"_I dunno, write Grease slash or something._"

"I am NOT writing slash for _Grease Lightning_," I growled.

I thought for a minute.

"Wait a minute, are you humouring me?"

The phone hung up.

"Well," I shrugged, turning to the others huddled in my basement, "I tried."

"So, _now_ what?" sighed Sandy.

"I don't know, I think I'm out of ideas," I replied, "Err…tanks?"

"Where are we gonna get a tank from?" demanded Linkara.

"Point taken," I sighed.

There was a short silence.

This was followed by a cough from Spongebob, and another, somewhat longer silence.

Then Sandy clicked her fingers.

"I got it!" she exclaimed, "I know someone who'd have the firepower to take down Witch Ember!"

"Ronald Reagan?"

"No," deadpanned Sandy, "Look, if we can get to this place…"

She pointed to a reference on the town map I kept on my wall.

"…we can get…someone's help."

"Well, who is it?" asked Linkara.

"Um…you'll see," replied Sandy.

"OK, how are we gonna get there?" asked Spongebob, "It's all the way on the other side of town."

"I have an idea!" I replied.

"Oh no," groaned Linkara.

* * *

Witch Ember was merrily tearing my roof apart when she heard a siren. She gave a confused glance to my driveway, which was lowering into the ground - becoming a ramp.

There was an almighty roar, and a white SUV thundered out of the newly formed hole, flames pouring from jets at the back as it sailed into the sky.

"This doesn't make any physical sense!" snapped Linkara, as the car soared upwards. He had the unenviable job of flying the thing.

"It's the Rocket Car," I rebutted, "It doesn't _need_ to make sense!"

In the back, Sandy looked to be enjoying herself. Spongebob, meanwhile, was clamping the seat, knuckles white.

Witch Ember glowered, raising her arms.

"You wanna play it the hard way, huh?" she growled, "Lets see how you like this!"

She began to throw bursts of fire at us, Linkara barely managing to dive out of their way.

"Fly low, over the highway," suggested Sandy, "She can't hit us as well down there!"

Linkara nodded, dropping altitude until we were just above the main downtown highway.

"Alright, it should be easy from here on in," nodded Linkara, "Well…_easier_."

He dodged out of the way of another fire burst.

"Uh…guys," Spongebob warned, nervously, "We're nearly at the end of the highway…"

"…and we're entering skyscraper alley," added Sandy.

Linkara looked ahead. We were hurtling straight into the downtown area – and its tightly-packed buildings. He paled.

"Hang on!" he yelled.

He spun the wheel. With a sharp left turn, he veered into the urban sprawl. He weaved his way through the buildings, left and right, right and left.

Spongebob looked about to vomit.

At last, we managed to weave through the buildings, and came to a halt at our destination.

Linkara, Spongebob and I gaped.

"Oh no," sighed Spongebob.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," snapped Linkara.

"He's all we've got," replied Sandy.

She walked up to the door, and, checking for any booby traps, knocked.

The door opened, and two, rather poorly constructed robots immediately attempted to attack their visitors.

Giving a sigh, Sandy half-heartedly gave them bothy karate chops and they deactivated.

"Zim, get out here, we need you," she barked.

There was a short silence. Then there was a mysterious bang (we never learnt what it was), and Zim walked out of another room and towards the door.

"Get off of my lawn, filthy worm babies!" he shouted.

"Not until you help us," replied Linkara.

"And why should the mighty _ZIM_ help you?" retorted Zim.

Linkara pointed over his shoulder to the giant Witch Ember in the distance.

"If you don't, that will probably conquer the universe."

"Even Irk?" quizzed Zim.

"_Especially_ Irk," I replied, darkly.

"Wait!" interrupted Spongebob, "If everyone in town got absorbed into the giant Witch Ember, how come you're still here?"

"He's an alien, you twit," deadpanned Linkara, "He's not a resident of this town."

"We're wasting time," snapped Zim, "If we're going to save the Irken Empire…"

"…and Earth," interrupted Spongebob.

"…then we're going to need serious hardware," continued Zim, "Behold, the ULTRA DOOM-ANNIHILATOR!"

He brandished a gigantic rocket launcher in his arms.

"…when did you get that?" I asked, meekly.

"_SILENCE!_"

* * *

The Rocket Car zoomed into the sky once more, the left doors opened. Now, Sandy was driving, and Linkara, Zim and I were standing on the edge of the car.

"OK," explained Sandy, "Linkara's got his Magic Gun, E3's got the Anti-Magic Tommy Gun, and Zim's got the U-D-A, right?"

"Yep," nodded Linkara.

"When I say the word," continued Sandy, "You fire. You got that?"

"One question," I asked, "Isn't hanging out the side of a car hanging fifty-odd feet in the air a bit dangerous?"

"Don't you know it!" grinned Sandy, "Get ready!"

She drove in the direction of Witch Ember, honking the horn to catch her attention.

Witch Ember turned to look at us.

"Back for more?" she sneered, "Bring it on, dipsticks!"

Sandy steered the car to the left as Witch Ember advanced on us. We aimed our weapons and prepared for the word.

Then the witch did something unexpected.

She pointed her index finger at the car and let off a small charge of magic. Linkara managed to dodge it, and it hit Spongebob.

There was an odd sound, a bit like the scrunching of cardboard, and I glanced over my shoulder. A small, yellow cardboard box was resting on the seat Spongebob had once occupied.

"Spongebob!" gasped Sandy.

"…um…that's new," I gulped.

"Meh, it happens," shrugged Zim.

Witch Ember gave a cruel grin.

"You like that, don't you?" she grinned.

INSERT YOUR OWN DEVIANTART JOKE HERE.

She raised her finger again, and shot off a charge at the driver's seat of the car. Sandy braced herself as she was hit.

The car shook. We glanced at the front seat. Sandy was still there…as a lifeless, fabric, stuffed version of herself.

AGAIN, IN…on second thoughts, no. There's a terrible joke coming up anyway.

"Flying Potatoes!" gasped Linkara, "We've got no pilot!"

"You could say that we're…stuffed," I added, removing my glasses at the pun.

Linkara just managed to stop Zim from throwing me over the side.

Witch Ember gave a maniacal laugh and entered a victory pose, her eye right next to our side of the car.

Then, we realised.

Her eye was right next to the car. Perfect firing position.

"What are you waiting for?" demanded Zim, "Shoot that hideous thing!"

Linkara fired his Magic Gun.

I fired a long burst from the Anti-Magic Tommy Gun.

Zim fired a shot from the Ultra Doom-Annihilator, laughing maniacally.

I don't know if the guns did anything much, but the U-D-A certainly did. There was a tremendous explosion, and Witch Ember covered her eye, giving a cry of pain.

She began to glow. As she did so, she began to shrink. As she shrunk, she split into hundreds – thousands – hundreds of thousands of different people, all looking around on the ground in confusion, until there were so many the original witch couldn't be seen among them.

"We did it!" I cheered.

"_Warehouse!_" cried Linkara.

He could say no more as the Rocket Car crashed into a warehouse with tremendous force, plunging us into darkness.

* * *

About two hours later, we managed to crawl out of the wreckage. By this time, Spongebob and Sandy had been returned to normal, with the added bonus of not being in pain from the impact.

As soon as we got out, Zim ditched us, his now destroyed super-weapon slung over his shoulder. The rest of us walked home, and found Danny, Tucker, Sam and Timmy on the front lawn, none the worse for the night's occasions.

Shortly after, we happened upon Ember, who had, in fact, been possessed by a witch the whole time. Yes. Understanding the trauma of losing control of your body, Danny elected only to shove her in the thermos for six hours, rather then the usual twelve.

My roof was very badly damaged, but I managed to pay for the damages by selling the remains of the Rocket Car to NASA. This meant that I only spent two-hundred dollars.

Oh, and if you're interested, I never did get paid for my scam.

Such is life, I guess.

**The End.**


	19. 19 10 10: Demon's Land

It's called _Van Diemen's Land_. It was going to turn up here eventually.

Review replies;

**unknown20troper:** I'm not sure GL slash breaks reality, I just picked something totally random for the gag. XD I'm sure it exists, though. Thanks for reading!

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** Thanks! I found Zim the hardest character to write well. Glad I did alright! Thanks for reviewing.

**Cartooniac55:** Yeah, I saw that. It was pretty funny. :) Thanks for the review!

**TweenisodeOrange:** THEN YOU MUST DIE. Nah, just kidding, we can like what we want to. XD Thanks very much!  
**

* * *

19/10/10 – Demon's Land**

Thank the Dutch.

When Abel Tasman landed in what we now know as Tasmania in the mid seventeenth century, he believed he believed that it was inhabited by fifteen foot giants, and that the landmass was connected to Australia to the north. He then proceeded to sail on and mistake New Zealand for a mythical continent of spice and riches, but not before he named the new land.

He could have named it after his country – New Holland, which was the existing name of the continent of Australia at the time.

He could have named it after his leader, William II of Orange – William's Land.

Instead, he decided to name it after his superior, the governor of the Dutch East India Company – Van Diemen's Land.

Charming.

In the 1790s, the British settled the island as a dumping ground for convicts. These convicts were not just criminals – they were the scum of the Empire, the worst criminals of them all.

After nearly starving to death in the first decade of colonial rule, the British settlers and convicts expanded, with new settlements (read; prisons) being established across the island. The new prisons had a habit of earning the moniker 'dreaded.' Until 1833, convicts were generally a rowdy bunch; stealing, murdering and eating each other (yes, really.)

In 1833, Governor George Arthur took a break from murdering the aboriginal people to build a penal colony on the most miserable, dreary and depressing island he could find. The new prison would be known as Port Arthur, and it made Alcatraz look like camp.

The prisoners went through hard labour, including mining in pitch darkness for hours on end. They also received psychological punishment – badly behaved convicts were placed in a dark room, dressed in a hooded uniform and forced to sit in utter silence for days to 'reflect on their actions'. There was no hope of escape, and some convicts apparently committed capital offences so that they could escape by hanging.

It is in the setting of the Port Arthur prison that our tale takes place. Be aware, dear readers, it isn't a nice one…

* * *

It was raining when they brought her in, along with a fresh back of ne'er-do-wells from Britain and Ireland.

The red-haired girl was chained, and she didn't look up as she passed the guards outside the settlement. One such guard spared her a glance.

Private Danny Fenton raised his eyebrow.

"We don't get many women around here," he mused.

"You don't want to go after that one, mate," one of the guards leading the convicts in replied, "She's on a manslaughter charge."

He continued with the convicts.

Danny shrugged, and went back to eying the convicts going inside. His stomach growled. He ignored it.

Half-rations were better then none, after all.

* * *

The girl was Vicky Delisle, Prisoner of Her Majesty. In her first two weeks in the settlement, she proved herself to be a hard prisoner.

"Twelve floggings," Danny recounted to his superior in the barracks one night, "About two-hundred lashes all up. I think the flogger's arm is getting tired."

"He's a convict; he can live with it," shrugged Sergeant Lancer, "How many hours has she had in the Separate Prison?"

"Thirty-three," replied Danny.

"I think she qualifies for the…special mission, then," nodded Lancer, "Gather her up – we move in the morning."

* * *

The 'special mission' was also a secret one. Only Sergeant Lancer knew its full details.

For most, it was just three soldiers trudging six convicts to edge of the Tasman Peninsular, and receiving orders when they arrived at a cape, designated Cape Winslow.

It took them three days to get there. One convict attempted to escape – he got five lashes.

The area of the cape they eventually reached was a jagged cliff, with a small level bit of rock pointing out to the sea. The sun was setting in the distance, framing the rock in its light.

Lancer stepped onto the rock, and barked an order.

"Fenton, stay with the convicts!" he snapped, "You two, bring up one each."

The two other soldiers grabbed one convict each – both murderers at Port Arthur – and strolled up to the rock. There, Lancer gave them a simple order, if it could be called that.

"It's time."

The soldiers exchanged glances, and nodded.

They unfastened the bayonets from their muskets, grasped them in their hands, and thrust them into the backs of the convicts they held.

"What the hell?" demanded Danny.

The soldiers held the convicts for three seconds, before kicking them off the rock into the waves below.

Lancer stood at the edge of the rock.

"With the blood of the guilty spilled, we will now spill that of the petty," he bellowed.

The soldiers ran back, grabbing two further convicts. One – a twelve-year old child named Francis – tried to escape, but the soldier grabbed him by the neck and dragged him to the rock.

"Come on, I-I only stole a horse!" stammered Francis.

"Save it, mate," the soldier holding him growled.

Both soldiers thrust their bayonets into their stomachs this time, cutting upwards.

"What is going on?" demanded Danny, "This is barbaric!"

The soldiers ignored him, holding their convicts, still groaning from the attack, over the cliff. They held them for a second or two, and then dropped them as well.

"The blood of the petty shall be followed by the sacrifice of loyal followers!" boomed Lancer.

The soldiers gave each other a final look and nod, before hurling themselves off the cliff and into the sea.

Danny's jaw dropped.

"Lancer!" he practically screamed, "What the hell are you doing?"

Lancer paid him no attention.

"…and now," he snarled, "The death of the unsuspecting, and the staining of the earth."

He turned around, quickly aimed his pistol and fired a shot. One of the last two convicts fell, a bullet in the head. He hit the ground, blood flowing onto the soil.

Now it was just Danny, Vicky and Lancer, alone.

"What are you doing?" asked Danny, in a low voice, "You're not like this."

"I am good at making a façade," shrugged Lancer, "Let's put this simply; Private…I'm raising a god."

He turned back around.

"With these sacrifices made in your name, I command you to rise, and reclaim your place as the leader of all men and women!"

He raised his hands into the air, and the sea frothed mightily.

Lancer gave a chuckle as a bright orb of light emerged from the ocean below him. The light hovered above them, its unearthly warmth prickling on Danny's skin.

Then, Vicky smiled.

She let out a short chuckle, attracting the attention of both Danny and Lancer.

"You really think you're raising The Great Orb?" she laughed, "You really are an idiot!"

"How do you know about The Great Orb?" snapped Lancer, "That information's buried in a tomb in East Sussex!"

Vicky said nothing, simply grinning as she held out her hands.

Lancer's eyes widened. Danny gave a confused look.

"What are you…" he began.

"_I _am the High Priestess of the Orb," snapped Vicky, "Not you. _I_ will possess the Orb's power, not you."

The Orb began to lower over Vicky, until it was touching her hands. Lancer stepped back, his eyes widened.

"No…n-no, you can't, I'm the…" he spluttered.

"Save it, Lancer," snarled Vicky.

She clapped her hands, absorbing the orb into her skin. She glowed a bright gold, and grinned as she grew more vibrant.

"…ascension," she whispered, somewhat drowsily, "What you wanted…what I get."

Lancer fell onto his rear, trying to crawl away from the priestess. He crawled too far, and with a yell he fell off the cliff to the rocks and waves below.

Danny gave one last glance at Vicky, shielding his eyes as she became too bright…

* * *

Danny blinked his eyes open.

He was lying under the stars, alone. The waves were still wild and unpredictable, but they felt and sounded a lot calmer and a lot more natural.

"What was that?" he asked himself, crawling to an upright position.

He dusted off his red and white uniform, and climbed to his feet. He scratched his head, wondering what had happened, and how it had happened.

Vicky was gone. Did she die? Or had she ascended? If so, was it to heaven or hell? Could it even be described?

"Private!"

Danny glanced behind him. A party of soldiers were making their way towards him from a collection of trees, their officer looking perplexed.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, "Where is Sergeant Lancer?"

"Dead, sir," he replied, "I…I think he was practising some sort of…Satanic ritual, maybe."

"Bollocks," snapped the officer, "What _really_ happened?"

Danny sighed, knowing the man would not believe him.

"He fell off the cliff," he half-lied, "The others died on the way here."

The officer nodded.

"Very well," he sighed, "You can come back to Port Arthur for further questioning."

He pointed to the troops behind him, beckoning him to join.

Danny nodded, rejoining the troops. He still mulled over the event in his head, but found no explanation.

"You alright, mate?" a solider asked, as they walked away.

Danny shook his head, and shrugged.

"Just another day in Van Diemen's Land," he replied.

* * *

In the 1850s, transportation to Van Diemen's Land ended, and in 1856, the government changed the name to 'Tasmania' to increase potential tourist profits. Port Arthur was abandoned in 1877. It's generally a nice place these days, if you miss the fact that one of its landmarks is the 'Isle of the Dead.'

Well, it's supposed to be nice. I've never been there, so…yeah.

So don't let this little tale prevent you from going to Port Arthur and having a look around. You may just have fun, if the ghosts don't get you. Even if they do, they've never killed anyone, so you are completely safe.

You are completely safe.

_You are completely safe._

_**You are completely safe.

* * *

**_Don't ask why Mr. Lancer is a cultist in this. Just roll with it.


	20. 20 10 10: Something Completely Different

INSANO RETURNS!

Incidentally, the Bus Driver is the same one from the Rock Bottom episode of Spongebob.

Review replies;

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** Who knows? There _have_ been a lot of ghost sightings down there. D Thanks for reading!

**TweenisodeOrange:** I'd recommend it. It's nice down here. Except Sydney. Thanks for reviewing!

**Cartooniac55:** Mr. Lancer is Danny Fenton's teacher. Yup. Thanks for the review!

**Movie-Brat:** It seemed pretty random at the time. *shrugs* Thanks very much!

**unknown20troper:** Yes, but what trick was it? XD Thanks!  
**

* * *

20/10/10 – And Now For Something Completely Different**

The Bus Driver raised his eyebrow as the strange man stepped on the bus. He was giggling insanely and holding up what looked like an analogue dial.

"Where does this bus go?" he asked.

"Sydney," the driver replied.

"YES! It's going to the most hellish place imaginable," the man grinned, "And…where are we now?"

"Melbourne. It's an all-day trip," the driver replied.

"Even better!" exclaimed the man, "A perfect chance to try out my latest invention…"

"I'm gonna need a name if you want a ticket," the Bus Driver sighed.

"Oh, err, Insano, first name Doctor."

"Really."

"Yes."

The Bus Driver sighed.

"Get in the back," he groaned.

Dr. Insano walked by, grinning.

"What a nut-job," he sighed.

He closed the doors and pulled on the clutch.

* * *

The first hour or so of the trip was pretty quiet as the bus negotiated the Melbourne suburbs and got onto the main highway.

Dr. Insano grinned, and whispered to Squidward, who was sitting next to him.

"This is my latest invention," he boasted.

"Uh-huh," nodded Squidward, unenthusiastically.

"I call it the Fiddley Thing," explained Insano.

"Uh-huh."

"You fiddle with the little knob, and you can distort reality!"

"Uh-huh."

"It doesn't even need a dongly thing!"

"Uh-huh."

"Do you want to see me test it?"

"Uh-huh."

"I guarantee that you'll find it _amazing!_"

"Uh-huh."

Dr. Insano gave a chuckle, and glanced at the people on the seats behind them.

Chester and AJ were playing hand held games against each other. I'd tell you what exactly they were playing, but that would be copyright infringement. (So says the fanfic writer.)

"Hey, you can't use [INSERT CREATURE HERE], we made rules against that!" snapped Chester.

"That's what you get for using [INSERT ATTACK HERE]," grinned AJ, smugly.

Dr. Insano inwardly wondered why they were saying 'insert whatever here' rather then the actual names of the game concepts, but he shrugged it off. He fiddled with the Fiddley Thing until he found the setting he wanted, and then laughed as he pushed the button.

There was a little 'pop!', and the kids turned into two little mouse things, Chester with red ears, and AJ with blue ears.

"What the heck?" exclaimed Chester.

"It appears we have been turned into creatures from a popular game series," mused AJ.

"Can I still play the harmonica?"

"Most likely."

"Then I'm cool," nodded Chester.

Dr. Insano let off another cackles, causing Squidward to flinch a little.

"It works! IT WORKS!" he bellowed.

"Uh-huh."

Squidward sighed, and looked out the window. It was going to be a long ride.

* * *

Another hour later, and the bus was passing a relatively generic countryside of trees and farms. Squidward was trying to sleep, which was difficult, as Dr. Insano kept cackling for no reason.

"Hey."

Squidward tried to ignore Dr. Insano as he elbowed him.

"Hey, Squidward," repeated Dr. Insano, "You want to see my Fiddley Thing again?"

"No."

"Good, I'll show you!" grinned Dr. Insano.

He glanced around the bus for a target. For a relatively large coach, it was disappointingly empty, but, just across from them, Spongebob and Sandy were talking with each other.

"I know," declared Dr. Insano, "I'll use it on that ugly cheese!"

Squidward perked up, grinning.

"Oh, I can agree with that one," he snickered.

"So you'll watch?" asked Dr. Insano.

"Of course," nodded Squidward.

"OF COURSE!"

The Nostalgia Critic, in full M. Bison garb, had been sitting in front of them.

"…who are you?" asked Squidward, taken aback.

"Never mind, I just…got the urge," sighed the Critic, relaxing back into his seat.

"Alrighty then!" grinned Dr. Insano, "I'll just fiddle with this a little bit…"

Across from them, Spongebob was still talking.

"I can't believe we won a free trip to Australia!" he grinned, "How did that happen again?"

Sandy shrugged.

"It's nice, ain't it," she replied, "Great to get away from the chimps, for once…speaking of which, how come y'all can breathe air?"

"Moisture Spray," replied Spongebob, "I should really use it more often."

Dr. Insano turned the knob to his (seemingly random) desired setting and pressed the button again.

There was another 'pop'.

Spongebob glanced at his arm absently, and noted that it had turned into a metallic, robot hand, similar to Jenny Wakeman's if I may use a bad simile. He glanced at his reflection in the window.

Both he and Sandy had been changed into robots. What had once been their skin/fur, clothing and other apparel were now represented by metallic paint on aluminium bodies, and their eyes were now screens with digital pupils.

"Uhh…what just happened?" asked Spongebob, a metallic tinge to his voice.

"I…don't know," replied Sandy, looking confused, "I mean – none of my gadgets could've caused this, I left 'em all behind."

"Hey, does this mean you don't need an air helmet anymore?" quizzed Spongebob.

Sandy thought for a moment, then grinned.

"True," she nodded, "Well, heck to it, then, I can live with this."

Dr. Insano let out a chuckle.

"YES! I have irreparably destroyed countless lives!" he boomed.

"You've 'destroyed' four lives," sighed Squidward, "None of whom have 'lost' their livelihoods. I wanted sponge-torture."

Dr. Insano looked at his feet.

"Well…I tried," he shrugged.

Squidward ignored him.

* * *

Another hour, and the bus was passing slightly hilly plains of long, dry grass. Squidward was again trying valiantly to ignore Dr. Insano, who was fiddling some more with the Fiddley Thing.

"There _has_ to be a bad one in here," he mused, "Somebody's soul is going to be crushed, damn it!"

"It already has," deadpanned Squidward.

Dr. Insano looked around the bus once more, glancing on one last group – Danny Fenton and Sam Manson. Danny was walking away to use the bus toilet, leaving Sam alone.

"Aha!" he grinned, "I can destroy young love! That's cool, isn't it?"

"No," sighed Squidward.

"Yes! Yes it is!" cackled Dr. Insano.

Sam glanced over at Dr. Insano, rolling her eyes.

"Can you stop cackling?" she demanded, "Or do I have to come over there?"

"Yes, please do," added Squidward.

"Oh really, girl?" chuckled Dr. Insano, "I have one thing to say to you!"

"Yeah? What is it?" challenged Sam.

"Think fast!"

Dr Insano held up the Fiddley Thing and pushed the button.

There was another 'pop'.

Sam's skin began to grow fur, and her eyes changed shape and turned yellow. With yet another 'pop', a tail appeared, strangely leaving her skirt intact (get your minds out of the gutter.) Her nose turned into a small, triangular whachamacallit and her ears moved to the top of her head, becoming cat ears.

"Uh…what?" repeated Sam, confused.

Dr. Insano shrugged.

"I honestly didn't see that coming," he replied.

At that moment, Danny emerged from the bathroom.

"What's going…" he began.

He paused, his eyes widening.

Sam stared back.

Dr. Insano hid the Fiddley Thing.

"I am entirely innocent," he said in monotone.

Danny's jaw dropped.

"Whoa," he said at last, "What…"

Then there was a flash, and Sam returned to her normal self.

"I'm a…werecat?" she mused.

"Actually, more of a were_lioness_, but yeah," AJ replied, leaning over from his seat.

"Aw, you're adorable," the Critic cut in.

Sam blinked.

"Awesome!" she cheered, raising her hands in the air.

Danny still blinked, periodically repeating 'what.'

Dr. Insano sat back down, looking miserable.

"Drat," he cursed, "I'm a mad scientist, not the f**king Salvation Army!"

He reached into his coat.

"Looks like it's time for my Defeat Cigar," he moaned.

He pulled out a cigar and lit his lighter.

* * *

The bus screeched to a halt at the side of the road.

The Bus Driver opened the door and hurled both Dr. Insano and Squidward onto the roadside.

"No smoking on the bus!" he snapped.

"…but what about the harassment of the other passengers?" quizzed Dr. Insano.

"No. Smoking. On the Bus," repeated the Bus Driver.

"What did I do?" demanded Squidward.

The Bus Driver slammed the door.

With a rev, a roar and a cloud of exhaust, the bus was gone.

Squidward looked miserably from left to right, seeing only dry grass for miles on end. He gave a depressed moan and sat on the roadside.

"Well, that didn't go well," shrugged Dr. Insano, "Never mind! I'll just work on some of my other devices. I can show you my Nuclear Hand Cannon!"

"SHUT UP!" screamed Squidward, "YOU'RE LIKE VILLAIN SPONGEBOB, JUST…JUST…SHUT UP!"

There was a long silence, Dr. Insano looking very hurt.

Then he shrugged, and began talking about his army of Suicide Squirrels.

Squidward buried his head in his hands and sobbed.

* * *

I wasn't on crack when I made this. Honest.


	21. 21 10 10: Send in the Troops

Yep, I'm using this for advertising. God, I'm shameless. :\

Full fic should start being posted in November or December.

ADDENDUM: Probably would have helped if I'd actually posted this :/. Still, it's still the 21st in America, so I've still got a chance of getting away with it...

Review replies;

**unknown20troper:** I'm glad you liked it! Vagueness is fun. XD Thanks for reviewing.

**TweenisodeOrange:** Oh bugger, I've been rumbled. :D Thanks for reading!

**Movie-Brat:** More likely then not, Vyse will appear before the month is up. Thanks for the review!

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** Well, the Critic had to turn up somewhere. :) Bus Drivers can be a bit odd, sometimes (or maybe its just where I live). Thanks very much!

**Cartooniac55:** I felt Squidward had suffered enough. :) I might just make a followup to this, but we'll see. Thanks!  
**

* * *

21/10/10 – Send in the Troops [A Snippet of Future Works]**

_Colonial Decree Fourteen, in the name of Her Majesty Queen Victoria, VR._

_As of now, the licence is to be risen to ₤6 a month, in punishment for the recent burning of the Empire Hotel. The Ringleaders of the burning, when found, are to be sentence to lifetime imprisonment. Also, the Nickelodeon Railway Company is demanded to repay its loans within four weeks or be nationalized by the government. From this day forth, miners caught without licences will be barred from taking possession of a licence. Finally, a full government inspection on the state of Shantytown is to be made, pending military garrison._

_Hereby signed on the date of twelfth of June, Eighteen-Fifty-Two,_

_Eugene H. Krabs, Governor._

* * *

"_HOW DARE THEY?_

"

Jimmy looked up as Dr. Wakeman stormed into his office in a fit of rage.

"Remember those grants the Governor gave us?" she growled.

"Yes," Jimmy replied.

"Well, he'd like them back within the month!" Dr. Wakeman roared.

"_What?_"

"I know," Dr. Wakeman growled, "Who does he think he is?"

"Is it a new decree?" Jimmy asked.

"Of course," sighed Dr. Wakeman, "The gold miners aren't gonna like it, either."

Dr. Wakeman handed Jimmy the details of Colonial Decree Fourteen. He read it over, a grim look on his face.

"Way I see it, one of two things will happen," he noted, "The miners will go nuts over this within two weeks, maybe less. The soldiers will be sent in, and something big will happen. Either the governor will back down and the past three decrees will be quietly dropped or…"

"Or what?"

"Does the word…revolution mean anything to you?" replied Jimmy, darkly

* * *

The Inspection was made the same day, and the fury of the miners became known.

One of the inspectors was assaulted with a large stick.

The Inspectors soon made their report. They had been informed, by Special Constable Walker no less, that the miners were completely out of control, and that the army would need to re-establish order in Shantytown.

Captain Frederic Isak Showsenhower's 50th Regiment was currently sitting doing nothing in the Capital. Who better to restore order to a town of angry miners then the legendary veteran of the Opium Wars, Captain 'Freakshow'?

* * *

"Found anything?"

"I've said 'no' for the past year and a half, what makes you think I'm gonna say 'yes' today?"

Wanda chuckled as Timmy continued to look around the deep, dark mine cavern. It was slow and dangerous work – some guy had actually drowned in mud a few weeks back – but there was still no profit.

Timmy rolled his eyes and called out, down the tunnel.

"You found anything?"

"What do you think?" Danny called from the darkness.

Timmy crossed his arms and turned his head. Something caught his eye.

It was an item on the ground, yellow and gleaming.

"G-gold," he breathed, reaching out.

"Now _there's_ where I left my wand!"

Cosmo reached out and picked up his wand.

"So, you found anything yet?" he asked.

There was a pause.

"Why have you got that murderous expression on your face?"

"Why," Timmy snarled, "Why do we keep up this…"

"LICENCE!"

AJ's yell tore into Timmy's mind, and he scowled. He climbed up to display the piece of paper to the trooper.

"Yep, this is genuine," AJ replied,' See you tomorrow, Tim-"

"Whose side are you on?"

AJ did a double-take, taken aback by his friend's question.

"Excuse me?"

"Are you with Walker or with us?" Timmy asked, "Because I don't think I want to follow his rules anymore."

"Timmy, that's insane!" AJ gasped, "Walker will throw you in jail…"

"Dude, no-one's gonna accept these licences for much longer," Timmy growled, "If we're gonna do something stupid, the traps are gonna be the target."

"I…"

"Are you with us or against us?"

AJ paused, his mind racing.

"I…I don't know," he said at last, shaking his head.

"Well, you better decide," Timmy grunted, climbing back into the mine.

AJ stared for a few seconds, before walking slowly away.

* * *

The train wound its way through the hills, its sound echoing for miles around. On board were the red-coated legions of Freakshow's Fiftieth Regiment. They sat in uncomfortable second-class coaches, knowing that, if it weren't for desired uniform cleanliness, they'd be in the open wagons of the third class.

In a first class carriage at the front of the train, Freakshow was engaging in open conversation with Walker.

"Don't worry, Constable," he stated, "Together, we shall give out our ultimum. Those miners can behave…"

"Or be destroyed," Walker finished, grinning evilly.

* * *

Spongebob and Patrick were stuck. Again.

They'd been digging mine tunnels without putting up supports behind them, so naturally, it had all caved in as they went along.

At last, however, the ground above them gave way and they broke through into daylight and fresh air.

"Freedom!" Spongebob panted, kissing the ground, "Sweet freedom!"

"We should start using those 'support' thingies," Patrick gasped.

"Don't tell me y'all buried yourselves again?"

Sandy chuckled and shook her head as she walked over.

"We might have…" Spongebob mused.

"Maybe…" Patrick added.

"You've gotta start using supports," sighed Sandy, "Not that it really matters, for all the gold we're findin' round here."

"I don't even have enough to pay the licence," groaned Spongebob.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you," Patrick said, brightly, "They're raising the licence price thing."

"WHAT?" Spongebob and Sandy gasped.

"Yup, it's now six pounds instead of four, why?" Patrick shrugged, "Oh, and they're sending in these weird…amy guys…to help the troopers."

"Amy? Wait, you wouldn't be sayin' army, would ya?" Sandy questioned.

"Oh yeah, that's it!," Patrick grinned, snapping his non-existent fingers.

Sandy gave an annoyed grimace.

"Tartar Sauce!" Sandy yelled.

Evidentially, some of Spongebob's behaviours had rubbed off on her.

"Patrick," Spongebob asked, "Why didn't you tell us this earlier?"

"I didn't think it was important."

His friends glared at him, exasperated.

* * *

Two hours later, the miners were watching a sight that did nothing to help their mood.

The Fiftieth was parading proudly into Shantytown, barely acknowledging the angry miners lining the streets. Their uniforms were smart and clean, deliberately well kept to show their 'superiority' over the disgruntled masses.

"This is just low," Sam muttered.

She, Danny, Timmy, Cosmo, Wanda, Spongebob, Patrick and Sandy were among the crowd, watching in annoyed, somewhat enraged silence.

"How can we just let this happen?" Wanda muttered, shaking her head.

Danny looked down, no longer wanting to look at the soldiers. He sighted a large rock on the ground.

_You know you want to…_ a voice in his head tempted.

Danny glanced from the rock to the soldiers.

He grinned.

Bending down, he picked up the rock and got ready for an overarm throw.

"Danny, what are you doing?" demanded Sam.

"Don't you know?" Danny replied, matter-of-factly, "I'm talking about a revolution."

He hurled the rock at the soldiers. It hit one of them in the arm, causing him to cringe and grasp the bruise.

Sam bent down and picked up her own rock.

"If we get arrested, I'm gonna kill you," she threatened, grinning herself.

She then hurled the rock at the soldiers.

Timmy grinned and picked up another rock as Danny and Sam grabbed fresh ones from the ground.

"Timmy, what are you doing?" Wanda gasped, "Cosmo, help me out here!"

She sighed as her husband threw a stone alongside the others.

Before long, Spongebob, Patrick and Sandy had joined in. The soldiers became confused, anxious and irritated as the frenzy of rock throwing spread through the crowd. Before too long, even Wanda had joined in.

The soldiers continued to march, while being scratched and bruised by the rocks.

"Arrest them!" Walker barked.

A handful of troopers, both on horseback and on foot, dashed onto the street, prepared to make arrests.

"Scatter!" Danny yelled.

The crowd ran.

Walker's troopers were lost in the crowd of miners, laughing and throwing insults as they fled. By the time they were gone, the soldiers had devolved into a bewildered mass, their uniforms stained and dusty from the rocks.

"They'll pay for that," Walker growled, "They'll pay dearly…"

* * *

Incidentally, troopers are cops. Just thought I should tell you.


	22. 22 10 10: Top 6 Why? Moments in History

I'm the Writing Guy, I write it so you don't have to!

Review replies;

**Cartooniac55:** That's based on a real-life event, actually. :) Anyway, thanks for reading!

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** Once I edit it out (it's a bit old), I'll put up the whole thing. I'm glad you liked the casting. Thanks for reviewing!

**TweenisodeOrange:** Yeah, it'd suck being stuck in a mine for that long? :( Yep, miners got no respect back then - over here, they still don't. Thanks for the review!

**Movie-Brat:** Probably not, I've got a lot of ideas as it is, but we'll see! Thanks very much.  
**

* * *

22/10/10 – Top Six **_**Why? **_**Moments in History**

Let us face it, people. We've all done stupid things.

What I am about to describe to you goes beyond stupidity. This is a list of the top six dumbest things ever attempted, conceived or done by mankind. These are the worst decisions, the most mind-numbingly awful ideas ever.

…and who better to present it then the Nostalgia Critic himself?

(Well, OK, it's just a fanfic, but you get the point.)

So, I'll hand over to him, and he'll show you the Top Six Most Stupid Things Ever Done. Why top six? Because I'm _lazy._

_

* * *

Number Six – Let's Invade Russia!_

We cut to the Critic, sitting at his usual desk.

"OK, so I think we all know Napoleon," he explained, "He was short, French and a complete jerk. On top of that, he was a complete warmonger, so you couldn't turn your back on him for five seconds before he took you over! I mean, it was like…"

He swung onto the left of his chair.

"'ey! Lurk oveur zere!" he yelled in an overdone French accent.

He then swung over to the right of his chair.

"Hmm?" he mused, looking the other way.

The Critic swung back.

"Haha, took ovuer your country."

The Critic returned to his normal position.

"So what went wrong?" he continued, "He decided to invade Russia. And what's wrong with that?"

The Critic grinned.

"Well, Russia is huge, it is cold, and it is sparsely populated," he explained, "There aren't many farms, but there _are_ many bitterly cold winters."

The Critic nodded.

"In other words…_INVADING RUSSIA IS A F**KING STUPID IDEA!_"

"So basically," he continued, calming down, "Napoleon marches into Russia, ends up in the middle of nowhere in the middle of winter, and 580,000 of his soldiers die. Yeah, nice work Napoleon…dumbass."

"Wait a minute!"

Jimmy marched into the room, arms crossed.

"Where'd you come from?" demanded the Critic.

"First of all," snapped Jimmy, "Napoleon was _not_ a dumbass, he was one of the greatest military minds that ever lived! Second of all, that all happened in 1812, and he didn't get beaten until 1814. And _then_ he came back in 1815…"

"Yes, charming," said the Critic, condensing patting Jimmy on the head, "But we're talking about the dumb decisions here, not the smart ones."

He shoved Jimmy off-screen.

"…I still have a point," called Jimmy as he left.

The Critic waved, a smile on his face.

"How precious," he chuckled.

_

* * *

Number Five – We Must Have Rome!_

"To be fair, Rome is one of the greatest cities in the world," explained the Critic, "The nexus of western art and culture…and bearbaiting, I guess…it also happened to be occupied by the Nazis in 1944. And _everybody_ hates the Nazis!"

A picture of a German soldier flashed over the screen. The soldier cried a single tear.

"Anyway, in 1944 the Allies managed to get close to Rome, and naturally, the American commander, General Clark, wanted to capture it," continued the Critic, "Instead, his forces were ordered to trap the German Tenth Army and stop them from escaping."

The Critic put on another calm grin.

"So, obviously, Clark does as he was ordered, the tens of thousands of men of the Tenth Army are captured, and hundreds of thousands of lives are saved, right?" he proposed.

He held his grin for a second.

"_**WRONG!**_" he thundered.

"He went for Rome," he elaborated, "He moved _his entire army_ to Rome and let the Germans go without a fight! Why? Because he wanted to be in the papers!"

"Meanwhile," he continued, "All the Germans went north and made a defensive line in the mountains north of Rome, and it took all Winter and 40,000 Allied dead to get them out of there. All because this asswipe wanted to get the front page!"

The Critic shook his head.

"Who even _reads_ the papers, anyway?" he lamented.

_

* * *

Number Four – Sacrilegious Bullets_

"Back in the 1850s," explained the Critic, "India was ruled by the British East India Company. In case you're wondering, yes, they are the same guys as from the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. In those movies, they were d**kweeds, and in real life…"

He paused for a moment.

"…they were d**kweeds," he shrugged.

"So, what brought down this vastly powerful and rich company?" asked the Critic.

He leaned into the screen.

"_A Bullet,_" he announced, dramatically. Lightning.

"_A Bullet?_" gasped Victor from recycled footage from the Wallace and Gromit movie. Lightning.

"_A Bullet." _Lightning.

"_A Bullet?_" Lightning.

Victor turned around and closed the blinds.

"What kind of bullet?"

The Critic stopped showing recycled footage.

"A sacrilegious bullet," replied the Critic, "You see, back then, musket bullets were coated in grease to slide into the gun. Before you slid the bullet in, you had the rip it out of the paper it was held in with your teeth, so you'd end up getting grease in your mouth."

"Most of the soldiers in the Company," continued the Critic, "Were Indian Hindus and Muslims, called _sepoys_, who couldn't touch anything from cows or pigs."

"So, the Company covered all of their bullets with grease with the fat of…"

The Critic trailed off.

"You know what? I think you already know the answer."

The Critic imitated a sepoy about to bite the paper containing his bullet.

"What did you say you covered this in again?" he asked.

"Cow fat," the Critic shrugged, now imitating a British officer.

Returning to imitate the Indian, the Critic gagged and fell off his chair.

"Long story short," finished the Critic, returning to his normal stance, "The sepoys rebelled, lots of people died and the Brits disbanded the East India Company. All because of ONE F**KING BULL…"

"_Lies!"_

Professor Farnsworth marched into the room.

"I'll have you know that the Company used only No. 1 Rifle Grease," he snapped, "Covered liberally in harmless _arsenic!_"

The Critic stared for a moment.

"Are you lost?" he asked at last.

"Why, yes. Yes I am."

_

* * *

Number Three – Fail Times Four Equals FAIL._

"World War One," mused the Critic, "What do we know about that war?"

Several clips were shown of WWI movies, all of which involved masses of soldiers being cut down by machine guns.

"Oh yeah, it's the one nobody liked," nodded the Critic, "In such a war of mind numbing stupidity, what could possibly stand out?"

He thought for a moment.

"I've got one!" he exclaimed at last.

"In 1915, the British landed in Gallipoli in Turkey, and they were nice enough to take some Australians and New Zealanders to join in on the ass-numbingly brainless idiocy," he explained, "To give some perspective, the Allies landed in April and left in December…and they NEVER LOST SIGHT OF THE OCEAN."

"Anyway, during this, someone decided to attack the Turkish at a place called the Nek. The idea was approved, and they spent several hours shelling the Turks before attack."

"The problem was," explained the Critic, "That someone decided to stop the bombardment half-an-hour early, and all the Turkish soldiers got back into their trenches and prepared for the attack. The Australians sent their first wave over…and they got massacred."

"Most World War One generals would stop the attack about now," explained the Critic, "The general in charge of this attack ordered them to _try again_. _FOUR TIMES._"

The Critic banged his head on the table.

"The end result was hundreds of people dying over fifty metres of totally useless sand," finished the Critic, "Why? Because someone decided that if at first you don't succeed, try and try again…and if everyone dies in the process, well…too bad."

"Assholes," he mumbled.

_

* * *

Number Two – Stools_

"Hey, look, we're bringing up the British again!" noticed the Critic.

"In 1900, the British conquered Ghana because…because they were d**ks, I guess," shrugged the Critic, "In order to stop their people being killed by the British, the leader of the local Ashanti people decided to try and co-exist with them."

"The Ashanti believed in a holy Golden Stool, which they used to crown their kings," explained the Critic, "No-one was allowed to touch or sit on it, not even the king who had to be held just above it. This belief was serious business."

"Naturally, the British governor demanded it be brought to him so that he could sit on it," snapped the Critic.

"To put that in perspective," he elaborated, "That's a bit like peeing on the Holy Bible while punching the Pope in the face and blowing up the Finger of God – you just don't do that."

He thought for a moment.

"Well, except maybe in Assassin's Creed," he shrugged.

"Long story short, the Ashanti rebelled, a war broke out, and three thousand people died."

The Critic paused.

"This happened _over a f**king stool!_"

The Critic shook his head.

"Oh, and by the way – the British never found the stool," he added.

_

* * *

And the Number One most idiotic discission is…_

"Number Six," replied Critic, "Again."

"You'd think people would learn after Napoleon failed," he continued, "I mean, he was a genius and his arm got eaten alive! What kind of idiot would think _he_ could…"

An image of Hitler flashed over the screen.

"Oh yeah, him," deadpanned the Critic.

"Yes, in 1941, Hitler decided to invade Russia," he sighed, "Unlike Napoleon, Hitler was a completely retarded idiot who not only _failed_ – he failed _spectacularly_."

"Millions and millions of people died," explained the Critic, "It was the deadliest conflict in human history, and it ended with Germany _completely destroyed_, all because one c**k-sucking, ass-eating, racist, jerk-offing f**kwit wanted to conquer the world."

"Jerk," snapped the Critic.

He gave a grin.

"Well, that was the top six most idiot decisions and events in history," he explained, "Now, before I go and kill E350 for making me do his job, I have to give you the competition word for this week."

"It's 'Wrong'," he announced, "Nice and simple – 'wrong.' That's the last word for the competition, and all entires are due on the thirty-first, so get writing or Clockwork Oracle King will win by default."

The Critic pulled out his gun.

"…now, if you'll excuse me, there's someone I have to shoot," he farewelled, "I'm the Nostalgia Critic, I remember it so you don't have to!"


	23. 23 10 10: The Amulet

Err...yeah. Yeah.

If the verse sounds bad, it's supposed to sound rather chaotic.

Review replies;

**Movie-Brat:** Speaking of history lessons, guess what I plan to write about on the twenty-fifth? XD Thanks for reading!

**Cartooniac55:** I've had writers block for the past week or so, which might explain the weird plots. Just do what I do - just write and see what happens! XD Thanks for reviewing.

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** Glad I got him down, he was hard! Thanks for the review.

**unknown20troper:** There were, my friend, they were. Sadest thing is, they aren't all that ancient, either. XD Thanks very much!

**TweenisodeOrange:** True - Russia is the Chuck Norris of nations. Thanks!  
**

* * *

23/10/10 – The Amulet**

_She didn't know of its power.  
There wasn't any way that she could have._

A simple engraving on a golden circle,  
With eyes of burning fire,  
Laying at rest on altar of stone,  
Atop of a burning pyre.

A feeling of interest, a feeling naïve,  
A feeling of true curiosity,  
Leads the squirrel onto her fate,  
When she, the amulet sees.

She picks it up from its aimless perch,  
And looks it over, wonders,  
Wonders if it has a name,  
As outside, lightning thunders,

_Curiosity killed the cat, you know.  
Or in this case, the rodent._

Opinions dance within her mind,  
Should she step back or go on,  
Is this an extreme danger,  
Or an opportunity, has it come?

A split second, she makes her choice,  
Her fate is sealed by chance,  
She fastens the amulet to her neck,  
And the gods begin to dance.

_Go back, Sandy.  
You're in over your head._

The fire burns, the music thunders,  
Shadows frolic on the walls,  
Invisible hands to reshape the living,  
From the divine and its thralls.

She cannot run, she cannot hide,  
Her feet stuck to the ground,  
She tries to yell, bus alas, alack,  
She cannot make a sound.

Frozen in place, she only watches,  
Beings of a startling range,  
Point at her and laugh aloud,  
As she begins to change.

_Too late.  
Can't say we didn't try._

Brown fur to grey steel,  
Eyes turned to fibre glare,  
Innards turned to circuitry,  
Mind converted to software.

_Aliens, Gods, what's the difference?_

Clothing is turned to paintwork,  
As she begins to change form,  
Scaled up, thirty-foot,  
The sensation is quite…warm.

Soon it ends, and there she stands,  
The amulet, it still is there,  
Then with a pop! it turns to a button,  
And then…

Silence.

Consideration.

Slowly, she pushes the button.

Again, she changes, steel to fur,  
Paint to clothes, wires to bone,  
Chip to brain, big to small,  
Then in here she stands alone.

The amulet is back.

Now it has a button on it.

She cannot take it off.

Peculiar.

_Where to from here?_

Two years down the road,  
She stands in a church, a veil down,  
She's given out her words to say,  
And with the sponge, she says her vows.

It's all normal, all well and good,  
But they know something rather crazy,  
That this town's protected from all evil,  
By its own hero…Mecha-Sandy.

* * *

Yep, I'm insane.

Dare you to write a followup to this.


	24. 24 10 10: An Open Letter to DeviantArt

RAGE AGAINST THE ESTABLISHMENT!

I tried to make this funny, but...yeah, this was hard.

Review replies;

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** Yeah, I'm not much of a poet. You got it right, there. Incidentally, you made the 100th review! Gimme five! XD Thanks for reading.

**Movie-Brat:** ...yep, I think you know me very well. :D Thanks for reviewing!

**Cartooniac55:** That's the spirit! Best of luck to you. :) Thanks for the review.

**unknown20troper:** Thanks, those lines were hard to think of. Thanks very much!

**

* * *

24/10/10 – An Open Letter to DeviantArt**

To the denizens of the internet's wretched hive of scum and villainy…

"_Oh, wait, that's my letter to Encyclopaedia Dramatica…hang on a sec…ah, here we go."_

To the denizens of the internet's resident art depository,

How are you? I am fine.

I am writing to demonstrate various complaints I have with your site. As a whole, I can usually find something wonderful, and I enjoy my visits immensely. However, some of members severely worry me.

To put my case into point, I shall search 'Spongebob and Patrick', and see what I get.

_I innocently type the keywords into DeviantArt's search engine._

_I stare at the results for a minute, and then I shrug._

Well, that wasn't as bad as I expected. I only found two yaoi pictures, and they were both non-sexual, thank god.

As a secondary example, I shall now search 'Spongebob and Squidward.'

_I make the search, and look for a minute._

"_Well, this isn't too bad," I say._

_I scroll down…and an expression of utter horror crosses my face._

I have now found an image of Squidward bloodily eating Spongebob's head. My point has been made.

I must ask why people are possessed to do this. I mean, why would Squidward want to eat Spongebob's head? There are plenty of other people who could eat Spongebob's head. A predator, an alien, Freddy Krueger, a tiger, Hitler, _anything _but Squidward.

I shall ask him what he thinks.

_I call over Squidward. He leans over and looks at the screen._

…

He agrees with me…although he does say he would happily allow someone else to eat his head.

I don't understand why people want to make such images. Is this person a fan? Is he insane? Is it satire? Is the artist Plankton or something?

Perhaps I'm digging too deeply into this, so I'll move on.

I am now going to make a perfectly safe search for, say – Vicky from the Fairly OddParents on your search engine.

_I make the search. I then stare at the page for a few minutes._

Oh Jesus Lord.

Let me put it this way. When I can count _seven_ sexualised images of Vicky (and be advised, this is with the mature filter on – there's a blocked image that fills me with fear), then someone has their mind in the gutter, plain and simple.

Seriously, you people are turned on by _cartoon characters?_ The hell?

Although…

_I open one of the pictures and call Timmy over. I cross my arms and let him drool over it for a minute, then politely inform him that it is Vicky._

_He punches me in the face and walks away._

In your defence, what you do is hardly illegal, at least somewhat well-drawn and (with the exception of that scary blocked-image) not exactly pornographic. And she _is_ about sixteen, so I guess it isn't _that_ sick.

Now I shall search for Tootie.

_I make the search, nod, and scroll down, sipping from my coke._

_I immediately spit it out in horror._

SHE'S _TEN_ YOU SICK F**KS!

I DO NOT WANT TO SEE A TEN-YEAR OLD IN THEIR F**KING UNDERCLOTHING!

THAT'S _ILLEGAL!_

NO, AGING THEM UP ISN'T HELPING!

At least there were only two examples on the page here (bear in mind, this is the _first_ page), but…no. Just no. I am not supporting the sexualisation of a _TEN YEAR OLD CHILD_. That is _wrong_. That is _bad touch_.

Although…

_I call back Timmy. He doesn't come. I curse, and then I move on._

OK, recovering from that disgusting and horrifying revelation, I'm going to move along.

Actually, before I move on, I need to check something.

_I type a search up._

Cartooniac, you'll be pleased to know that Sandy/Penguin doesn't seem to exist.

(I'm a bit disappointed, to be honest.)

Now, moving on, let us search for an anthromorphic character, say…Sandy.

_I type up the search. I stare for a moment, before counting._

I counted sixteen instances of sexualisation and one blockage. There are twenty-four results on the page.

People, I understand the furry fandom – I am one of the few non-furries that do. Some furry art's pretty good.

However, I don't understand the ones that feel the need to add…hormonal interest…to their images. I mean seriously, think about it.

Am I really supposed to believe there are people who watch Spongebob Squarepants and say; 'Man, that squirrel could be really hot if I gave her…expansion. Oh yeah, _that'll_ get a lot of hits online!"

Because if that's true, then it won't be too hard to believe that there are people who watch Spongebob Squarepants and…well, let's just say it's a teenage thing.

I am now shuddering violently. Please excuse me while I get rid of mental imagery.

_I turn around on my chair, down my entire can of coke, throw it away, grab the Anti-Magic Tommy Gun, and begin to beat myself repeatedly with it._

_Eventually, I stop, and my chair falls backwards._

OK, I'm done.

Another thing I have noticed on your website is a large amount of transformation art. For the uninitiated, this is the act of drawing someone, and turning them into something else. Simple, fun, totally harmless…right?

Well, a lot of the time, yes. I'll link you a rather good (ie. warm and fluffy) one at the bottom of the page. On the other side of the spectrum, I'll add another one of Timmy turning into a werewolf in Paint.

_I chuckle a little._

"_Who uses Paint?" I ask._

_I glance both ways, check my Paint window, and then return to writing._

It's the…bad ones that I have beef with.

For one, well…let's just say, god forbid you search for Timantha. GOD FORBID.

For seconds…well, there are a lot of people with very, very weird fetishes. Apparently, the idea of being turned into something else is one of them.

The end result is that I have to wade through page upon page of blatant fanservice to find anything good.

But then, that's just my niche. For most of my readers, it shouldn't be a problem…if it weren't for the fact that our favourite cartoons are often the chosen material.

Danny. Spongebob. Jenny. Kimi. All four tested positive to sexualisation by this method, and that's without searching for the dreaded transgender.

_WHY DO PEOPLE DO THIS?_

Do you gain anything from it, or is it just to fulfil your sick fantasies?

Ugh…I don't want to know.

_I shrug, before glancing at my word count._

Well, I'm getting a bit long-winded here, so I'll wrap up with one complaint.

You need more robots.

I mean seriously, you can't go wrong with robots.

I've had no problems with robots, I'm…

"_350! GET OUT HERE!"_

_I glance at the door, nervously._

"_Oh yeah," I realise, "I turned Sandy into a robot again. I don't think she likes it much…hey, Timmy, can you look out the window?"_

_Timmy walks over, and glances out a nearby window._

"_She's got out the lasso," he informed me, "You'd better start running."_

Um, better wrap this up quickly.

Basically, DeviantArt, you are a perverted, mind-screwing, image-forming, terror-forming hall full of some of the most disgusting fetishes and ideas in the world…and I love you anyway.

Yours truly,

E350.

P.S.: More robots.

_I press send, then run from my seat as Sandy kicks in the door.

* * *

_Art links:

http : / / deixkay7278 . deviantart . com / art / The-Trasnformation-123371229?q=boost%3Apopular+Transformation+Timmy&qo=51

http : / / jose-ramiro . / art / Canine-Sam-and-Danny-Kissing-99660097?q=boost%3Apopular+Transformation+Danny&qo=5


	25. 25 10 10: War Never Changes

Movie-Brat? Remember how I keep failing to put Freddy Krueger in this?

Well, this is for you. It doesn't have Freddy, but it has something else I think you'll like...

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant: ***passes you the Brain Bleach.* Believe me, it's worse seeing it for real. Thanks for reading!

**Cartooniac55:** Yeah. I'm glad no-one walked into the room while I searched it, too. (I _did_ find some Sandy/Shadow the Hedgehog, though...) Thanks for reviewing!

**Movie-Brat:** Yep, you're right...sort of. XD Yep, every one of those pictures exists. :( Thanks for the review!  
**

* * *

25/10/10 – War Never Changes**

_Marston Moor, North Yorkshire, England.  
2__nd__ July 1644. The English Civil War._

The sky above him was dark, and the air smelt like sulphur.

Danny Fenton groaned, and rubbed his head. His memory was fuzzy, to say the least. He remembered standing in line with his unit, marching towards the Royalists…closing to melee range and…

He looked up.

A dirty great pike was embedded deep into his stomach.

"What…" he breathed, confused.

He thought some more. He remembered being surrounded by soldiers, both the enemy and his own. He remembered receiving a sharp pain in his torso, and being forced to the ground. He remembered seeing a Royalist officer smirk at him and aim a pistol at his face.

He remembered him pulling the trigger…so why wasn't he dead?

He heard a sigh.

"You'd think he'd at least have the courtesy to take back his weapon," someone growled.

Two hands grabbed the pike and pulled it out of his body. Danny winced and gave out a cry.

"Oh, for crying out loud, you're a soldier, not a servant boy!" snapped the voice.

Danny turned his head.

The Royalist who had shot him was standing over him, arms crossed. He had white hair and a ponytail, and looking mildly unamused.

"What…who?" groaned Danny.

"Vlad Masters," greeted Vlad, pulling Danny to his feet, "It seems that you have much to learn, my boy."

"How did I survive that?" demanded Danny.

Vlad gave a grin.

"You, my boy, have much to learn," he replied.

_

* * *

Blenheim, Germany._

A line of British soldiers aimed their muskets. None of them wore a set uniform, save for a uniform red. Among them, Danny and Vlad stood side-by-side.

"_War is a strange contrast of conduct and order…"_

"Company…FIRE!"

The British fired their muskets into the French enemy, Danny stepping back slightly at the recoil. Vlad rolled his eyes.

_

* * *

Culloden, Scotland, 1746._

British troops marched across a moor, over the bodies of dead and dying Scottish highlanders. Danny stopped over one, writhing on the ground.

He held his bayonet over his stomach…and found he could not kill the man.

"…_and startling brutality._"

Stab.

Danny turned, shocked, as Vlad buried his musket into the Scotsman's gut. Vlad flashed Danny a look, before moving on.

Hesitantly, Danny followed.

_

* * *

Waterloo, Belgium, 1815._

Once again, Danny and Vlad stood among a body of red coated infantrymen, formed into a square formation as French cavalry charged towards them.

"_Sometimes, you will meet with great success…"_

The cavalry hit the British head on. Danny began to fight, tooth-and-nail, with the Frenchmen, knocking one of his horse with his bayonet.

Behind him, Vlad pulled a cavalryman off his mount and stabbed him in the face.

The French cavalry broke and began to run, and the British cheered.

_

* * *

Balaclava, the Crimea, Russia, 1854._

This time, Danny and Vlad were not engaged, watching from a rise as a body of British cavalry – the Light Brigade – charged across the dry, barren landscape towards Russian cannons.

"…_sometimes you will see dismal failures."_

The Russian battery fired, the first row of cavalrymen falling in a blood mess of horse and rider. Unsatisfied, the Russians reloaded and fired again, more of the British meeting their fate.

Danny averted his eyes, not wanting to watch any longer.

_

* * *

The Somme River, France, 1916._

Danny clutched a rifle to his khaki-clad uniform, waiting anxiously for the signal. Vlad gave him a nod, before slowly raising his hand and blowing a whistle.

The squad climbed out of the trench and began to walk slowly and cautiously towards the German lines. It should have been easy – they should have been killed by artillery fire in the past five days.

"_Sometimes you will walk into the fires of hell…"_

The Germans opened fire.

Machine gun rounds ripped through the squad of troops, tearing them apart. Danny cringed and yelped as several rounds hit him in the torso, sending him sliding back into the dirt.

He lay there for many hours, among the bodies of his comrades, as the Battle of the Somme raged around him, hundreds of men dying for almost no gain.

_

* * *

St. Nazaire, France.  
28__th__ March, 1942._

"…_and sometimes, hell will walk through you._"

"Suppressive fire!"

Danny fired a burst from his Thompson, before ducking under the window again. He was among a group of seventeen commandoes, now surrounded in a house on the outskirts of St. Nazaire.

He shot a grin to Vlad as the older man took cover next to him.

"Don't think they'll forget this one in a hurry," he quipped.

"We've just rammed a destroyer into a harbour and proceeded to blow everything up," replied Vlad, dryly, "Forgive me if that's not notable."

He held his revolver out the window and shot a few times, before turning to Danny.

"298, Daniel," he mused.

"What?" asked Danny, confused.

"298 years since Marston Moor," elaborated Vlad, "It'll be three-hundred in 1944."

"What's so special about that?" demanded Danny.

Vlad gave a sad expression out the window.

Then the windowsill exploded.

Danny coughed as a team of German troops poured in the hole, before glancing to Vlad.

He was lying, bleeding, against another wall, but coughed out a final warning.

"Run…I'll see you soon…"

Danny nodded, and made a run for it.

He didn't know how he managed to avoid being sighted, but he made it out of St. Nazaire alive.

_

* * *

Near Caen, Normandy, France.  
2__nd__ July, 1944._

Danny sat at the entrance to the bombed out church, cleaning his rifle. He was now assigned to the Seventh Armoured Division, the 'Desert Rats', who were participating in Field Marshal Montgomery's ongoing offensive on Caen.

While they had still failed to take the town, they were, at the very least, spreading out the Germans enough for the Americans to take over much of Western Normandy, so they could at least say they were achieving something.

"Daniel."

Danny looked up and gasped.

Vlad stood before him, his arms crossed. His appearance was startling – Danny assumed he'd been captured by the Germans – but even more so was his clothing choice.

"German," he growled.

"1st SS Panzer Division, to be precise," replied Vlad.

Danny shook his head.

"You've seen what the Nazis do," he snapped, "Remember France? Heck, we've been on the same side for three-hundred years, why change now?"

"Daniel, I have been around since 55BC," replied Vlad, "I've had two protégés since then…each of them I have kept for three hundred years, before…"

He gave a dark, humourless chuckle, and pulled out a knife.

"It's hardly symbolic," he shrugged, "But war is war, and war comes with austerity."

He advanced on Danny, a scowl crossing his face.

"You can't kill me," Danny snarled.

"Of course I can," replied Vlad, "Off with the head, so to speak."

He lunged at Danny.

Danny grabbed Vlad's arm, desperately trying to force his knife away from his neck. He began to sweat, perspiration covering his face.

"Oi, you!"

Another soldier had just left the church. In a quick movement, the man aimed his Sten gun at Vlad, and fired a burst.

Vlad took it in the torso, but shrugged it off. Pushing Danny away, he pulled out a Luger pistol and shot the unfortunate stranger.

The man took the bullet straight to the heart, and fell down, gurgling blood from his mouth as he rolled down the church steps. He landed on the dirt road, coughed one more time, and died.

Vlad looked over him and shook his head.

BANG.

Vlad fell to the ground, his neck stinging. Danny stood behind him, holding his own pistol.

Danny gave a grim sigh, and leant down, taking out his knife.

"Lucky we're not inside, boy," chuckled Vlad, grimly, "Holy ground."

Danny ignored him, taking his knife to the back of Vlad's head.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

He began to cut.

Vlad winced, his eyes looking into those of the man he had just killed.

"We were lions, Danny," he chuckled, "Lions led by donkeys."

"Maybe," sighed Danny.

"A few exceptions, mind," mused Vlad, wincing again, "Wellington did a good job back at Waterloo, remember?"

Danny ignored him, still cutting. Vlad was breathing more and more heavily with each cut.

"I'm finishing this," declared Danny, silently.

"Yes…do it," agreed Vlad, "Someone will get you eventually. After all, there can be only one."

He let out a sigh, glancing at the dead soldier.

"We went from redcoat's to turtle hats," he lamented, "Things were better in my day…"

Danny gave a sharp stab into Vlad's neck, before cutting, separating it from his body.

He stood up, looking at the disembodied man he'd just killed.

"It never gets easier," he sighed.

He sat at the base of the stairs, and took of his helmet. Ruffling his hair, he noted a fine layer of sweat had gathered over him.

He shrugged, and put his helmet back on. It was one of the old kind, the brimmed kind that offered little protection from the back of the head – but he'd had it since the Somme, and now it was the only relic left of his time with Vlad.

Around him, the wind began to pick up…

_Daniel Fenton was killed in action in 1956, during the Suez Crisis. His killer was a man known only as the Kurgan.

* * *

European Wars 101 _or, all of the wars described in this story:

THE ENGLISH CIVIL WAR: Civil War between two equally huge d**ks over religion and government. Parliamentarians won, but their rule was so boring that the king came back nine years later.

THE WAR OF THE SPANISH SUCCESSION: Europe throws a hissy fit over who should be king of Spain.

THE JACOBITE REBELLION: Some Highlanders try to overthrow the oppressive Hanoverian dynasty in favour of the oppressive Stuart dynasty - fail.

THE NAPOLEONIC WARS: Napoleon takes over France - decides to conquer Europe for s**ts and giggles.

THE CRIMEAN WAR: Britain and France get involved in unnecessary war - lots of people die while the Ottomans (Turkish) kick arse.

THE FIRST WORLD WAR: Everyone country in Europe declares war on each other - hilarity fails to ensue.

THE SECOND WORLD WAR: Some crap involving a guy called Hitler.

THE SUEZ CRISIS: Britain forgets it's not allowed to be an empire anymore and tries to kick Egypt around - Americans slap British around the ear and they go home.


	26. 26 10 10: Squidward Riffs Again

Oh my god. This is the worst thing I've ever read before in my life.

WARNING: This one gets a little political.

Review replies;

**Cartooniac55:** Bile fascination, my friend. :D I'm glad you liked it, thanks for reading!

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** You're a troper too? Incidentally, from what I've seen of Spoony's reviews, I'm not touching the sequals with a ten-foot pole. Thanks for reviewing!

**TweenisodeOrange:** Going to war every weekend is a European tradition, I suppose. Also, I've seen the Kim Possible artwork over there - I agree with you completely! Thanks for the review.  
**

* * *

26/10/10 – Squidward Riffs Again**

**I can't believe I'm stuck doing this again. Well, let's get started with this.**

_**Insane, Alone.**_

**So…we're talking about E350's mental condition and marital status?**

When your insane, no one loves you. When your insane, everyone hates you. When your insane, your alone.** That is completely wrong. Spongebob is **_**not**_** alone…sadly.**

Insane. What did that really mean? Why did they call me that? Why would they lock me up in this place? Crazy. I dont get it. When did this come up? When had this been decided? Why did they stare at me for hours every day and record what I do? What was happening? Insane... insane... insane.** This doesn't fill me with confidence.**

:1: Insane? **You tell me.**

It was just a normal day. I was working late at the Krusty Krab for a special event Mr. Krabs had set up (dont ask me what it was, i have no idea) **You **_**should.**_** You **_**work**_** there**. Thats when it happened. I felt something hit me on the back of the head. **Apparently I finally managed to find a fire axe.** Screaming in pain, Squidward rushed through the door.** I'm screaming in pain? When did that start?** "Spongebob!" All I did was lie there, staring at Squidward. **Stop that, that's disconcerting.** "Squid-" Was all I could make out. Everything went black. **There should be a line break here.** I woke up in what seemed like a moving vehicle. Obviously one of those van boats. It was a bumpy ride, all the way. Finally we came to a sudden stop. I saw the doors open, to a dark place. **If I see any dead pants, I'm outta here.** Then a lady stepped out and held out her hand. "Here we are, Mr. Squarepants. step this way" She guided me into the place. **Where is he? I hope it's jail.** It looked like a hospital. **Darn.** Where the heak was I? She led me into a room with a bed, desk, lamp, tv, and bathroom. **Wow. I never get that when **_**I **_**go to hospital.** The floor was white tile with black spots. The walls where the kind you find at schools with the white stuff on them to look like paint. The celing was two long lights and celing tiles. The bathroom door was light and made of wood. **Great, you've gone from **_**under-**_**describing to **_**over-**_**describing.** She led me into the room, and went out shutting the door. There was water on the floor by the bed. I picked it up and drank it down. **You'd think they'd put it on a nightstand or something.** I guess I got dehydrated while in the car. **I love how they can spell 'dehydrated' but not 'heck'.** Thats when I heard a knock at the door. "C-come in!" I said, trying to hide my fear. "Hello! My name is Ashley **Williams, and I'm here to kill you**, and I'll be your keeper until further notice." She kinda creeped me out, being my keeper and all. **Did we mention she was his keeper?** She had long, wavy blonde hair, deep blue eyes. She looked to be about 17. She was wearing a white dress, like a nurse's only shorter, and more sundressy. **MARY-SUE.** ''H-hi. My name is S-Spongebob" She smiled. She had beautiful teeth. They looked like they could glow._**MARY SUE.**_ "Well, Hi, Spongebob. Like I said, I'm Ashley and I'll be your keeper (**did I mention that yet?)** for however long your here." "And where would "here" Be?" "The Bikinni Bottom Insane Assylum. Or B.B.I.A. for short."** Yep. They actually call it an Insane Asylum.** _"Insane?" _I thought. Then I heard something buz. "Oh, its dinner time. Would you like something to eat Spongebob?" "Yes, please. But before that, why am I here?" "Because they have diagnosed you as insane. Now come on, silly! Time to eat!" **Who is talking?** I followed her out the door, curious...

:2: Emily**Is that the character from Thomas the Tank Engine? Because that would be a lot more bearable.**

The cafetiria was big, with five long tables. **It's Hogwarts for crazies.** People of different things wrong with them **You mean…crazy people?** sat at different tables. I looked at her in confusion. "Okay, I know this is confusing." She pointed to the far right table, near the wall. "That table is for the people who are scuicidal **as opposed to suicidal**. They dont get to use forks or knives. **Last I checked, being suicidal doesn't get you chucked in the loony bin.** The one next to it is the one for people who have no sense of anything. Like they dont really have education. **THEN SEND THEM TO SCHOOL.** The one there is where you'll be sitting.** No explanation of what it is for. I'm guessing it's for neurotic people.** The next one is for people who think things are other things. **Uh…what?** The last table is for people who are mentally challenged and have nowhere to go or are in special need. **The author would like to point out that as an autistic person, he finds that last sentence utterly offensive.** Alright well get your food and sit down!' I did so. I sat at the end, with everyone stairing at me. **What, he's not new meat!** **It's the loony bin, not prison.** Finally, after about three minuets or so, a girl with short brown hair and green eyes looked at me. "Hi, Im **Relationship Sue** Emily. Whats your name?" "Spongebob..." She stuck her hand out. I shook it. She scooted over so she could sit in front of me. "So, your insane too, huh? **Lunch?**" "Uh, I guess. I dont really think I am, though. I honestly dont know why Im here." **I have a good idea.** "None of us do at first, buddy. So, how are you crazy?" **Why don't you ask me?** "I dont know, Emily. One minuet Im working at my job and the next Im in a van. I dont really know whats going on." She looked at me like 'oh you poor thing'. "Well, I have random outbursts and spaz attacks. **Crocker in the blood?** And I randomly get violent when Im sad." She smiled. "So whats life here like?" "Well, you get three meals and three snacks a day, over 100 tv channels, 24 hour service for if you really need anything or questions-" **Wait, you get **_**that?**_** I wanna go to this place. At least there'd be no Spongebob.** "Sounds more like a hotel." "Yeah, but theres this thing they do. They- **give us lobotomies. It gets better as it goes along.**" Then the bell rang and dinner was over. "Well, bye!" "Wait! Emily! What do they do?" "Oh you'll see..." And she left. I did the same. What did they do? I became more and more scared with every step I took. **I get more and more scared with every word I read, your point?**

3: What did they do? **They through in the loony bin, next please.**

I thought Emily's "what they do to you" wouldn't be too bad. But it was the most horrifying thing I had ever seen. **Yes, there were reruns of As Told by Ginger.** They took this pink liquid into a shot, and **hokey** pokied it into my wrists. Then they charted my every move. When I went to the bathroom, when I blinked, what I did, EVERYTHING. **You know, this could be a **_**lot **_**worse.** Finally the hour was over and it was time to get some sleep. Thats when ashley walked in. "Hey, Ashley.'' ''Hey Spongebob!'' **Well, that was useful.** I went into the bathroom to see another door behind my open door. I opened it, to see some pajamas and clothes. My clothes! Apparently they went to my house. **Why not? I'd give them the key.** I slipped on my pajamas and came back out. I had a feeling that tomarrow would be the worst day here so far. And so it was. **ANGST ANGST ANGST.**

**Well that was a woefully short chapter.**

: Disgrace **If you sing that song from the Lion King 2, I swear…**

I woke up with a thud onto the hard, unforgiving floor. I finally got the chance to go outside. **So they released him? Okey dokey then.** But when I did, people screaming filled my ears. "YOUR A DISGRACE!" "GO TO-" I couldnt hear that last part, but I had a feeling I didnt want to. **Why? Hell isn't that bad a word.** I finally got so fed up I ran right through the crowd. I ran to the Krusty Krab first, no one there would accept me! Mr. Krabs nor Squidward. **I don't accept you any other day. What's the difference?** There was then only one place I knew I could go. Sandy's. **Uh, yeah, lets just forget about Patrick.** I ran past my Pineapple, down the black paved road. Tears where streaming down my face. Every step I took was like every step of horror. People looking at me in a disgusted way, little kids hiding behind their parents, **how does everyone know who he is? Is it front page news? 'Sponge goes to Asylum: Yes, it's a slow news day.'** which made me think: What about MY parents? What do THEY think of me? It made me shutter. I finally got to the treedome, and frantically knocked on the door. What happened next surprized me more than anything in the world.

5: The Biggest Surprize. **If you're interested, the next few chapters are why E350 thinks this fic is So Bad Its Horrible.**

Sandy opened the door and when she saw me, she just looked at me like I was nothing. **He is nothing, moving on.** "Sandy! I dont know -" but she just slammed the door in my face. "S-Sandy?" "Im sorry Spongebob but I cant have someone like you in my home. Im reallly sorry." **Well, that's remarkably intolerant.** "sandy I dont even know whats going on! All I want is someone to explain it to me!" Then she let me in. We sat at the picnic table, and she told me all about how all of Bikini Bottom thought I was gay and insane for being so.

**So, being gay makes you insane.**

**Being gay warrants being institutionalised.**

**No. Just no. That's terrible.**

"Sandy, do you believe that?" "Well, I" "You do, dont you!" "Spongebob I-" "NO Sandy! I thought you where my best friend! **I thought Patrick was your best friend.** I guess I was wrong. I hate you! I hate you I hate you I hate you! I hate land! **Racist.** I hate Texas! **Regionalist.** I HATE YOU! I HOPE YOUR TREEDOME LEAKS OR YOU BE FORCED TO GO HOME!" And I ran out, crying harder. I didnt pay attention to all of the mean people on the streets anymore.

I went back to the assylum feeling sadder than ever. Tomarrow I was being let out again, and I had a plan. I reaaaaally good plan to make Sandy regret believing I was insane. A big smile came to my face. I had the best plan ever. **Reading this is hurting me. Please stop.**

6: the plan** This chapter is four lines long.**

I ran over to Patricks rock the next day. He opened the rock and let me inside. **More proof he should've gone to him in the first place.**

"So you want us to act Gay around Sandy to prove a point? I dont know, Spongebob." "Please Patrick I know it will work!" "*sigh* Oh alright. But I get to use Ol reliable for a month." "Deal." We went over to jellyfish feilds, and there was Sandy** for no reason**. We started acting gay like any gay couple would, **which is exactly like anyone else** (with no kissing), and then we walked up to Sandy, holding hands. "IS THIS GAY ENOUGH FOR YA SANDY, HUH? YOU WANT GAY NOW YOU GOT GAY!" I coulds see her get teary eyed, and run off. I kinda felt bad but a little bit proud. **Let me guess – this act will be portrayed as villainous.**

7: Falling tears.

*Sandy's POV* As I ran home with tears in my eyes, I could feel the betrayal. I could feel the loss inside me. **Told you it'd be villianized.** I could feel me becoming weak. I ran inside. If he didnt want to treat me well then fine. I grabbed a knife out of the kitchen and put the blade to my wrists. **Oh no.** All the promises dont come to mind when all your past is left behind. _**Oh no.**_ The cold blade sliding is all that matters at the moment of truth. _**Oh no.**_ The moment of me. I cut for hours, burned, hit. _**OH NO.**_ But no matter what, it still hurt. _**NO. YOU DIDN'T.**_ His little reverse phycology thing Spongebob did hurt more than the bruses, scars, and now oozing with blood wrists. _**YOU JUST DIDN'T.**_ What hurt the most, was that I had to admit it. _**NO. NO. NO.**_ I was in love with Spongebob Squarepants.

**WRIST CUTTING IN SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS.**

_**WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL THINGS UNDER THE SEA IS **__**WRONG WITH YOU?**_

*Spongebob's POV*

I felt actually really bad for being **an idiot** that mean to Sandy. After all, she did have a right to an opinion. I went over to her treedome to say sorry.

I got really scared when she didnt answer the door. I broke the door down with the karate skills she taught me, and ran all around looking for her. I finally came to the bedroom to see her lieing passed out with a bloody knife. Her wrists were oozing blood. **Technically, she'd be dead.** I quickly picked up her body and rushed her to the hospital.

**I-I can't go on.**

**This is…I'm gonna need a **_**lot**_** of soufflé to block out this.**

**Uh…yeah. Goodbye.

* * *

**In all seriousness, this is the worst fanfic I've ever read, Spandy or no Spandy. As someone with Austism who knows a gay person, I am utterly offended.


	27. 27 10 10: Project ReGenesis

I hope none of you live in Denver...

Review replies;

**unknown20troper:** ...I only just noticed that I repeated myself there. I'm glad you got the messege as well. :D Thanks for reading!

**Movie-Brat:** I'm glad you liked the Highlander fic! I thought you;d like the Kurgan. Thanks for reviewing.

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** Her name is BelieverGirl100. Your sentiments are mine exactly. Thanks for the review!

**Cartooniac55:** I was going to comment on that, but that meant I had to look at that filth for longer. :\ Incidentally, yay fellow Aspies! (Yeah, that's what my mothers call it. :|) Thanks very much.

**TweenisodeOrange:** I don't know how this stuff manages to get written. :\ Thanks!  
**

* * *

27/10/10 – Project ReGenesis**

…_loading…_

…_loading…_

…_establishing connection…_

…_establishing connection…_

_WARNING. GENETIC SECURITY PROFILE HAS FAILED. SWITCHING TO MANUAL OVERRIDE._

_Username: One1  
Password: *******  
Serial No.: 083291_

_Manual Override…successful!_

_Welcome, AGENT ONE._

…_now accessing project records 29/10/10, complied by SECURITY CHIEF DAMON GREY…_

…_accessing…_

…_connection acquired._

* * *

Genetic Evaluation of the subject has been completed. Professor Membrane has ordered a push to the final stages of activation.

I myself am not convinced. We all understand the dangers of this technology. Hell, it damn near ended the world last time such radical genetic technology was dabbled with [SEE INCIDENT REPORT 25/12/09].

To be honest, this makes Naismith's crap seem elementary.

Membrane won't have any setbacks, mind you. He's obsessive with this field (hell, he's obsessive with all fields, really.) He seems to think that if he delays, M.E.R.F. will kick in the door and take over the project.

We've been green lit for activation over the thirtieth and thirty-first. I can't say I'm too happy about it…

* * *

…_now accessing report from Mr. HANK SCORPIO, project supervisor, PROJECT REGENESIS…_

…_connection acquired._

* * *

I'm going to side with [SECURITY CHIEF DAMON GREY] on this. Membrane's desire to persist has shown an adverse affect on the health of the employed scientists. Seriously, guys, let's have some time out here – a week off, we'll have a few beers – just…delay for a bit, OK?

_

* * *

RESPONSE TO HANK SCORPIO, head of GLOBEX CORPORATION, supervisor to PROJECT REGENESIS._

_Project is to go ahead. No delays can be accepted._

_- A. Doombringer._

* * *

…_now accessing report 30/10/10, complied by SECURITY CHIEF DAMON GREY…_

…_connection acquired._

* * *

We've worked flat-out for the past twelve hours, and we've still got a ways to go until we're done. I've tried appealing for break to visit Valerie (god only knows what she's up to on her own – I hope she hasn't got that suit out again) but Membrane vetos my request every time.

He can't see it – the guy's so disconnected from reality he might as well be an alien. Hell, this guy has kids himself – they live on the other side of the country and he's been over here eight months flat out. He doesn't even _call_ them.

The project is shaping up – we're starting to see an actual, finished project here. It's kinda freaky, really – I can see it, in the tank, lifeless but…alive. It's really kinda creepy.

I'm pretty sure the thing blinked at me, but maybe that's the exhaustion kicking in. I need caffeine…

* * *

…_now accessing security video files, 0200h 31/10/10…_

…_connection acquired._

* * *

Membrane stands over a tank, waiting for it to open. He has a crazed look, his eyes heavy and bagged. Around him, exhausted scientists and security guards watch, waiting.

The tank opens, and steam covers the room. Membrane lets out a laugh, and announces that his project has been completed.

Then the footage cuts out for two seconds.

It returns. There is a splatter of red – blood? – in the corner of the camera. Scientists run in horror as terrible screaming can be heard. Membrane lies on the ground, bleeding profusely from his stomach. Damon pulls his pistol from his holster and empties the clip at an off-screen object.

A brief .5 second cut – Damon steps back in terror – an inhuman roar.

The film cuts out. This time it doesn't come back.

_

* * *

Alarm backlog, 204h 31/10/10…_

_All personnel, we have a code black in effect, I repeat, code black is in effect. Prof. Membrane and Chief Grey are confirmed dead. All security personnel are to form up at the exit to block C. All non-essential personnel are to be immediately evacuated. I say again, we have a code black in effect…_

* * *

…_now accessing security video files, 0211h 31/10/10…_

_...connection acquired.__  
_

* * *

Outside the cold metal building that is Block C, security has formed up. Heavy weapons have been taken out. Sirens can be heard wailing. The door is off-screen.

There is a ripping noise – some guards visibly recoil. Security Lieutenant Doe steps up and bellows out a fire order.

The footage flickers in and out. Guards fire – a black mass, impossible to discern, seems to be ripping apart security – another inhuman roar – a bloody mass of guards lie on the ground as their friends run in fear.

Then, there is a ten second video cut. The audio is simply a mismatch of screams of terror and pain, roaring and disgusting, wet splatter noises.

The video comes back. Every single guard is dead.

From off-screen, there is a sudden, vibrant flash of red light, and then…nothing.

_

* * *

Facility Nine has been confirmed wiped out. No survivors. Nearby city of Denver wiped out. Requesting permission to upgrade to Code Z._

_

* * *

Attention all personnel. Code Black is no longer in effect. Upgrade to Code Z is now in effect. This is a possible Galactic Extinction Event. All units are to prepare for immediate and heavy-handed counter-measures. Use of nuclear weapons is authorised. This comes down from the President and the U.N. secretary general. I repeat, Code Black is no longer in effect. Upgrade to Code Z is now in effect. This is…Event… … …Pres… … …_

_

* * *

- ALL CONNECTION WITH WASHINGTON SERVER LOST. PASSING TO ALTERNATIVE SERVERS. -

* * *

_

You have now been introduced to ReGenesis.

...

*manical laughter.*


	28. 28 10 10: Dr Insano VS New South Wales

I enjoy writing Insano. I also enjoy poking fun at my own country. (Then again, I'm a half-British city-slicker, so I'm hardly the Australian stereotype.)

Review replies;

**Movie-Brat:** Probably not. I've got ideas for the next few 'shots. Thanks for the suggestion, anyway. Thanks for reading!

**Cartooniac55:** Well, I'm glad you like it...ehehehe. XD Thanks for the review!

**TweenisodeOrange:** I think losing the stopover is the least of your worries... :0. Thanks for the review!

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** The creature's my own creation. To be honest, I'm still working it out. Nice to see a fellow Doctor Who fan! Thanks very much.  
**

* * *

28/10/10 – Dr. Insano VS New South Wales**

_WARNING: This chapter includes possible unauthorised (but free) advertising, the author making fun of his country of residence, and the Fiddley Thing. You have been warned._

Dr. Insano and Squidward trudged down the road. They were covered in dust, and the heat from the sun was twenty-seven degrees Celsius (that was 80.6 in Fahrenheit, a somewhat warm day in Australia). Dr. Insano was sweating profusely.

"I cannot bear this!" he exclaimed.

"Don't you live in Alaska?" quizzed Squidward.

"Yes, but I but I never walk," replied Dr. Insano.

Squidward rolled his eyes.

In the distance, they could see a small, wooden building with a red roof and an unidentified object on the top. Dr. Insano squinted to look at a road sign proclaiming what it was.

"Hmm…what exactly is a 'poob?'" he asked.

"A _pub_," corrected Squidward, "It's another name for a bar used in Engl…"

"A _bar?_" repeated Dr. Insano, "A bar means nourishment! Quickly, my cephalopod companion, let us make haste!"

He ran ahead. Squidward rolled his eyes, and leisurely followed the (very slowly) sprinting scientist to the pub.

It was a simple wooden building, perhaps of nineteenth century construction, a little bit like an American saloon with benches outside. It had a red, corrugated iron roof, and a balcony on the second floor. It also had a very strange oddity on the roof.

"Is that a car?" Dr. Insano burst out.

Squidward looked up.

A small, red ute (think pick-up truck) of 1920s construction was perched on top of the building, sitting matter-of-factly above everything else. It was either the oddest attraction of all time, or the oddest parking accident of all time – Squidward didn't know which.

He shook his head.

"What is this?" Dr. Insano called, looking at the left wall of the building, "it's some kind of _strange_ language!"

A long message was written along the wall in white paint. It was probably advertisement, but it had so much slang on it that it was difficult to discern what exactly it said. Squidward shook his head again.

"Well, never mind," shrugged Dr. Insano, "Let's head inside while I phone for another bus!"

"You can't phone a bus," snapped Squidward.

Dr. Insano was already walking inside.

The inside of the pub was somewhat cramped with tables, ornaments of various kinds (including a pillar with flyers, chains and paper attached to it) and the bar counter. A single, bearded man sat behind the counter, wearing a chequered shirt, jeans and boots and a truly massive hat.

"G'day," he nodded.

"I shall have your finest ale!" boomed Dr. Insano.

The bartender leant forward.

"We don't sell ale. We sell beer."

He placed a beer glass on the counter and filled it up.

Dr. Insano stared for a moment, and then nodded.

Squidward sighed.

"Look, I'll just have some water, alright?" he asked.

"We don't sell water. We sell beer."

"I don't drink," snapped Squidward.

The bartender stared for a moment.

"That means I'm non-alcoholic," he elaborated.

The bartender stared again.

"I don't like beer," stated Squidward, bluntly.

The bartender blinked.

Squidward groaned, and made his way to one of the tables. Wearily, he slumped into the chair and buried his head in his hands. Across from him, Dr. Insano sat down and got out the Fiddley Thing.

"I have an idea!" he exclaimed.

"Put that thing away," moaned Squidward.

Dr. Insano didn't listen.

"My plan is simple," he grinned, "I'm going to turn the bartender into a super-mutant kangaroo, which we shall ride until we catch up to the bus! Then we shall steal the bus, and then we'll _torture _the bus and drive it off a cliff!"

"No," replied Squidward, bluntly.

"Oh, come on! I think I'm working this out!" implored Dr. Insano, "Look, I'll test it on that kangaroo out there!"

He pointed outside. A kangaroo was in the dirt parking lot, eating out of an unattended cooler.

Squidward grunted, and said nothing.

"I'll be back in a minute," nodded Dr. Insano.

He strolled outside, right up to the kangaroo.

"_I COMMAND YOU TO SUBMIT TO ME!_" he bellowed.

Whack.

The kangaroo hopped away, having jump-kicked Dr. Insano in his stomach. He fell on his back, wheezing for breath.

Scowling, the doctor got up.

"So that's how you want to play it," he sneered, holding out the Fiddley Thing, "Well then, eat fiddle!"

He pressed the button.

* * *

Squidward held on for dear life as the Giant Death Wallaby hopped down the road at high speed, Dr. Insano laughing manically as he steered.

"It worked! _It worked!"_ he screeched.

"We're gonna die!" blubbered Squidward.

Dr. Insano looked ahead, and grinned.

"There's the bus," he noted, pointing ahead. Indeed, the bus was a few hundred metres away, behind four other cars.

"OK, let's take this nice and slow," sighed Squidward.

"GDW! Activate Mega Jump!" bellowed Insano.

The Giant Death Wallaby leapt into the air. Squidward screamed as it flew over two of the cars, before landing on the third one, crushing it beneath its feet. Unconcerned, Dr. Insano steered the Wallaby past the final car and alongside the bus.

The Bus Driver glanced out the window.

Dr. Insano grinned, and waved.

The Bus Driver shook his head, and prepared to pull over.

The bus came to a halt at a rest stop, the Wallaby stopping next to it. Dr. Insano climbed down, a victorious look on his face, as the Bus Driver marched up to him.

"Look, for the last time," the Bus Driver scowled, "I had legitimate reasons to throw you off the bus. This country has _very_ strict no smoking laws."

"What about messing with genetics like silly putty?" asked Squidward.

"That was tolerable," snapped the Bus Driver, "Listen, if I let you back on the bus, will you _promise_ not to smoke?"

"Very well," sighed Dr. Insano, "Can I still use the Fiddley Thing?"

"NO!" Squidward shouted.

Dr. Insano shot him a look.

The Bus Driver gave a heavy sigh.

"Alright, Doctor, get back on," he groaned, "And make it quick, I want to at least reach the Snowy Mountains by Christmas."

Dr. Insano grinned, and stepped back onto the bus. Squidward made to follow, but the Bus Driver stopped him.

"No. Not you," he sneered.

He got onto his seat and closed the door.

Squidward stared, jaw dropped, as he was once again left behind by the bus, a cloud of exhaust and dust enveloping him.

He shook his head.

"Why does this always happen to me?" he lamented.

"Meh, who knows?" shrugged the Giant Death Wallaby.

Squidward did a double-take.

* * *

Dr. Insano returned to his seat on the bus and sighed contently, putting his hands behind his head.

"Well, I'm back on the public transport system," he grinned, "What could possibly go wrong?"

He turned to watch the on-bus television, humming lazily to the music video being shown.

Suddenly, the video was cut off.

"I was listening to that, you tremendous hoodwinks!" snapped Dr. Insano, angrily.

Then there was a loud, long beep. This was followed by continuous beeps as a message appeared on screen.

_EMERGENCY BROADCAST SYSTEM._

_There has been an attack on Australian soil. It is believed to be nuclear or a WMD of other description. Contact overseas has been lost. All residents of the Canberra and South-East Coast areas are follow the following radio and television advice from Local ABC…_

Dr. Insano blinked.

"Oh, _f**k _it," he snapped.

* * *

_- CONFIRMED. MOST OF COLORADO AND PARTS OF NEIGHBOURING STATES DESTROYED BY REGENESIS. NUCLEAR WEAPONS FIRED SPORADICALLY AT GLOBAL TARGETS. REGENESIS' AIM BELIEVED TO BE FOR EXTICTING. TRANSFERRING CONTROL TO LOCAL ADMINISTRATIONS. -

* * *

_

Incidentally, did I mention that Sunday is Halloween? X)_  
_


	29. 29 10 10: Desperate Times

This story is far from my best. That said, I think the ending is very, very awesome.

Review replies;

**TweenisodeOrange:** If you want, I can extend the deadline. I was probably going to end up doing that anyway, so it's no problem. :D Thanks for reading!

**Cartooniac55:** I got half of that plan from Mr. Bean's diary, to be honest. XD It's rather funny writing for Insano and Squidward - especially when they're together! Thanks for reviewing.

**Movie-Brat:** Something epic. Hopefully. :P Thanks for the review!

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** That's Australia for you. We have fifteen different kinds of beer in the supermarket...and that's in the cities! Yep, I have an arc planned for the last few stories - along with a few other surprises on Halloween. Thanks very much!  
**

* * *

29/10/10 – Desperate Times, Desperate Measures**

_Mayor Vlad Masters' Office, Amity Park, [UNKNOWN].  
4.00am, 31__st__ October 2010, Universe HFR._

"…_we finally have confirmed information from the targets of the nuclear strikes,_" Lance Thunder announced, "_An unknown amount of missiles have struck Washington DC. The Australian and Brazilian governments have confirmed strikes in urban areas in their countries, and casualties are currently unknown. The Colorado Incident is still highly classified…"_

"…so let me get this straight," demanded Vlad, pacing his office whilst talking on his phone, "You decided it would be a good idea to make a super-intelligent, all-powerful _physical god,_ and then you let it escape. Doombringer, that isn't _risky_, it's downright stupid!"

He listened to the reply.

"Oh, you think you can restrain it?" he snapped, "Good luck with that."

He slammed the phone onto the receiver.

"Idiots," he whispered, "Utter idiots."

He glanced out his window over the city of Amity Park, a serious expression on his face.

"It's time to close up shop, I think," he snarled, picking up the phone again.

_

* * *

Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force, Frankfurt, Germany.  
December 17__th__, 1944, Universe MGS._

Jimmy crossed his arms and stood outside the door to General Eisenhower's office, dancing on the spot to keep warm. It was cold, and the heater was broken. Frankly, Jimmy was just waiting for the nineteenth – then he'd be discharged, and he could finally go home.

Inside, he could hear the general speaking on the phone. He sounded confused and a bit irritated.

_Must be Monty again_, he thought.

Ever since the peace, Field Marshal Montgomery had fallen increasingly out of line, directly challenging decisions made by the SHAEF. He was ignoring orders to remove high-ranking German officials from their posts (but then again, so was Patton) and was still demanding command of all land forces (even though the war was over – his excuse was that the Soviets might decide to come west.)

On the other hand, Patton was hardly making life easy for Eisenhower, either. He directly advocated war with the Russians, and had a tendency to (accidentally or otherwise) badmouth them in public. Between the two generals, Ike had his work cut out for him.

He heard Eisenhower hang up the phone. He stepped aside as the general left his office, whispering under his breath about somebody getting his number…

_

* * *

Fenton Residence, Amity Park, [UNKNOWN].  
4.10am, 31__st__ October 2010, Universe HFR._

Jack hung up the phone, looking a little bit flabbergasted.

"Jack," snapped Maddie, "Just hurry up and ring Alicia, will you? It's not that hard!"

"I think I got a wrong number," shrugged Jack.

"Who?" demanded Maddie.

"Uh…Dwight D. Eisenhower," replied Jack.

Maddie scowled, and snatched the phone off Jack. She threw it over to Jazz, who was coming down the stairs after getting her coat.

"Jazz, ring your aunt," she ordered, "Jack, help me load supplies onto the Spectre Speeder, we are getting out of here _before_ somewhat drops a rocket on us!"

She dragged Jack outside, leaving Jazz on her own.

Jazz shrugged, and dialled Aunt Alicia's number.

There were three rings, and then it picked up.

"_Oh yes, General Eisenhower, I was hoping you might call. I wanted to re-evaluate my position…_"

Jazz raised her brow.

"You're not my aunt," she quizzed.

"…_and you're not Eisenhower. How did you get this number?_"

"_This number_ is supposed to be my aunt," snapped Jazz, "Who are you?"

"_Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery,_" the man on the other side replied, _"I would have thought you'd known._"

"Montg…what are you, a ghost? Montgomery's been dead since 1976!" snapped Jazz.

"_Well, it's 1944 over here. Peculiar, isn't it?_"

"Wait a minute," mused Jazz, suspicious, "Why aren't you more…surprised about this? Are you humouring me?"

"_Oh, I've become associated with…several bizarre nuances this year,_" replied Monty.

"Oh _really_," snapped Jazz, "I'm not buying it. Goodbye."

She hung up the phone.

"Mom!" she yelled, "I think there's something up with the phones! I can't get Aunt Alicia."

She heard Maddie swear from outside.

"Leave it then," she snapped, "Just get in the car."

Jazz glanced at the phone, and then hung it up, walking away.

_

* * *

Somewhere in Minnesota.  
4.30am, 31__st__ October 2010. Universe HFR._

"…_we now have confirmation of nuclear strikes on the following cities,_" the news anchor explained, "_Washington, Rio de Janeiro, Brasilia, Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane have been hit by nuclear attacks. It is believed that seventeen missiles were fired, and that the worst hit cities were Washington and Sydney. We'll bring you further updates as they come…_"

Linkara sat on his couch, watching the report as his stomach seemed to knot more and more.

"…_in related news, the Colorado Anomaly has now spread across the entirety of Wyoming, Utah, Arizona, Kansas and Nebraska, with significant infestations of New Mexico, Texas Oklahoma, Nevada and California. No contact can be made with those areas…"_

Next to him, Spoony (who had flown over to film a crossover the day before) paled visibly.

"_Residents of the Dakotas, Iowa, Missouri, Arkansas and Minnesota are now on high alert, with likely infestation within the next few hours…"_

"Alright," announced Linkara, standing up, "We're leaving."

"Dude," snapped Spoony, "This thing is spreading across _states_ in _half-hours_. How are we supposed to outrun it?"

"I have my ways," shrugged Linkara, "I'm gonna grab Iron Liz and Pollo, meet me in the garage."

Spoony shrugged, and headed over to the garage. Opening the door, he looked inside…and stared.

Inside the garage was a rocket-powered SUV.

"Where the hell did he get this?" he demanded.

_

* * *

Vlad Masters' Private Jet, Over the Atlantic Ocean.  
5.00am, 31__st__ October 2010, Universe HFR._

Vlad sat on his jet, vainly attempting to use his phone again. Earlier, he'd gotten bizarre cross-dimensional calls – now he simply got nothing.

"ReGenesis," he growled, shaking his head, "I told them not to do it."

He sighed heavily, and buzzed his attendant.

"Get me the special package," he demanded, "If the world is ending, I may as well use it."

He sat back and waited until the attendant arrived, handing him a large box. Vlad waved her away and opened the box, taking out a little radio.

He pressed the button and snapped a short message.

"Skulker," he ordered, "Gather the ghosts and take them to my Australian villa. I need defences, and I'll pay handsomely."

He put down the remote and pulled something else from the box – a bottle of champagne.

"If I'm going to die," he said to himself, "I'll at least enjoy myself first."

He cracked open the bottle and filled a glass.

_

* * *

Berlin, Germany.  
11.30pm, 17__th__ November, 1944, Universe MGS._

The door to the small apartment opened, and three soldiers slowly walked into the room, Sten guns ready for any sign of trouble.

Behind them, a small, pink, glowing animal floated into the room. It looked around, and then let out a soft 'Mew.'

"Clear," nodded a soldier, "Bring 'em up."

Two more soldiers entered the room, escorting Field Marshal Montgomery and General Patton into the room.

"I don't see why you had to bring me on this horses**t," snapped Patton.

"The contact requested your appearance too, Patton," said Monty in a condensing tone, "I think you might know him."

Patton rolled his eyes, fingering his ivory-handled revolver.

Monty knocked on a door, and a small, black-haired girl opened.

"That's the f**kin' contact?" demanded Patton.

"Of course not," snapped Monty, "Danielle, is he in?"

"Yeah," nodded Danielle, "He's at the table."

Monty nodded, and he and Patton stepped through.

Patton's eyes widened.

A man sat at a small table in what seemed to be a kitchen. Behind him was a swirling ball of light, perhaps a wormhole. This was not what perplexed Patton.

"What in the name of…" he gasped.

"Patton," nodded Monty, "Meet our contact…Erwin."

Erwin Rommel nodded, and motioned to the hole.

"Gentlemen," he explained, "This is where it gets _really_ interesting."

* * *

- WARNING. WARNING. FURTHER MISSILES HAVE BEEN FIRED. ALSO, SEVERAL NATURAL DISASTERS HAVE BEGUN ACROSS THE WORLD. END OF THE WORLD SCENARIO CONFIRMED TO BE IN PLACE. BEGIN DISTRIBUTION OF SAFETY GUIDES AND EVACUATION PROCEDURES. -

* * *

Recap: Rommel, Monty and Patton (the three best generals of WW2) are about to cross the barriers of the universe, and everyone seems to be heading in the direction of Australia.

Yep, the conclusion to this will be epic. Really really epic.

Or it will suck. Really really suck.

Tomorrow's one will be quite simple, so I have more time for the Halloween 'shot. Just warning you.


	30. 30 10 10: Public Service Announcement

Well, this is our last humour oneshot. To celebrate, I'm doing something I've wanted to do for quite some time.

Also, an Eldritch Abomination: /Main/EldritchAbomination

Review Replies;

**Movie-Brat:** Probably not, but we'll see. Thanks for reading!

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** They won't appear, but they'll still be important. :P Thanks for the review!

**Cartooniac55:** I liked writing Spoony. :D Thanks for reviewing!

**TweenisodeOrange:** Why? _WHY?_ XD Thanks very much.  
**

* * *

30/10/10 – And Now For a Public Service Announcement**

_E350 is not available right now. He has fled his house as a stowaway aboard Zim's ship, carrying enough cola with him to fill the Suez Canal._

_Instead, here is a brief public service announcement._

_Remember…Protect and Survive._

* * *

One: Eldritch Abominations Described.

An eldritch abomination is just like any other monster – only much bigger. They can also break your mind, your property and your planet.

Eldritch Abominations are also followed by a deadly phenomenon called 'death'. In large doses, death can be very demoralising.

You can protect yourself, your family and your property from 'death', by paying heed to the following instructions.

Two: The Warnings

These are the warning sounds you must recognise.

First; the attack warning. If an attack is expected, the sirens will sound the following audio file:

"_OH GOD! OH GOD! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! RUN! DEAR GOD, RUN! AAAAAHHHH!"_

Second; the death warning. Once the attack has run its course, the sirens will sound the following audio file:

"_Oh no! Everyone's dead, DEAD! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"_

Finally; the all-clear. When the immediate danger of attack or death has passed, you will hear the following audio file:

"…"

This signals the end of an immediate danger, but the thing may come back.

Here are the warning sounds again;

The attack: _"OH GOD! OH GOD! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! RUN! DEAR GOD, RUN! AAAAAHHHH!"_

The death:_ "Oh no! Everyone's dead, DEAD! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"_

The all-clear: _"…"_

Three: What to Do When the Warnings Sound

Although you heard it five seconds ago, here is a reminder of the attack warning. Here is the sound:

"_OH GOD! OH GOD! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! RUN! DEAR GOD, RUN! AAAAAHHHH!"_

When you hear the attack warning, you and your family must take cover at once. Do not stay out of doors. Do not go out and buy more doors, if you have misunderstood that last statement.

If you are caught in the open, lie down. You can at least relax before you die.

Here is an annoying reminder about death warnings:

"_Oh no! Everyone's dead, DEAD! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"_

This sound indicates that death is expected.

When you hear it, you must stay in the safest position in the house. Keep the door shut, even though a monster could very easily breach it. Do not go outside the house until you are told it is safe. In other words, never ever leave your house.

Here, _again_, is the all clear warning:

"…"

When you hear this sound, you can leave your cover – but you'll probably be dead by then, so yeah.

Four: Stay at Home

Actually, on second thoughts, don't. Leave your home and get as far away from the abomination as is physically possible.

Five: Action after Warnings

A warning may come quite unexpectedly. You may be on the toilet, in the middle of open heart surgery or skydiving. We will now tell you what to do if a warning sounds when you are at home, and then we will explain what to do if you are out of doors. If you are in any of the three positions we previously mentioned – you're screwed. Sorry.

First; if you are at home. If attack is imminent, you will hear the attack sound, like…eff it, you know what it sounds like.

Take cover at once. Send your young children to the basement and turn off the gas and electricity at the mains. Otherwise, we'll charge your next-of-kin with the gas bill.

Shut your windows, draw your curtains, and shut your eyes. It will not make an ounce of difference, but it will make you feel a bit better. Then, go to the basement and see how many times you can say psalms/salah/mantras/the llama song before you die.

Now, this is what you should do if you are out of doors when the warning sounds.

When you hear the attack warning, take cover in the nearest building. If there is no building nearby, try to find solid cover – for example, you could cower under a bridge. If you cannot find any solid cover…you're screwed.

When the all-clear sounds, you may go outside again. You will probably need to clear corpses off your front lawn anyway.

Six: Casualties

If anyone dies while an attack is occurring, throw their body out the window. Otherwise, they will stink up the house, and that would never do.

Seven: There is no Seven

* * *

_WARNING: Following the advise of this video will result in immediate and painful death. _

_Tune in tomorrow for the final 'shot of this month!_


	31. 31 10 10: Conclusion

I know this is earlier then usual, but...oh well! :D

This chapter is fifteen pages long, has a biblical reference, has a long winded ending and script format at the very end. Despite this, I'm really proud of it.

Review replies;

**Movie-Brat:** Heck yes, those things are hilarious! Thanks for the review.

**TweenisodeOrange:** Have a frat party! You'll never get another chance! XD Thanks for reading.

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** I could have bribed him, but then I'd lose some of my precious cola. :P Thanks for reviewing!  
**

* * *

31/10/10 – The Conclusion**

"…_we can now confirm that all contact outside this area of the country has been lost,"_ the news anchor explained, "_Casualties in Sydney are still not available, and we are unable to receive any informa-"_

The television went dead.

Vlad shook his head, and got up off the lounge in his Australian villa's study. Walking outside, he took in the air, smelling ash and sulphur.

"Damn it," he snapped.

Out of the corner of his ear, he heard the sound of a motor. Turning, he raised an eyebrow as a bus made its way up the driveway, coming to a halt in front of his property.

The door opened, and the Bus Driver climbed out, dragging Dr. Insano with him.

"I need somewhere private," he explained, "I'm going to strangle this guy."

"Why so?" asked Vlad.

"I don't know what he's done, but the world seems to be ending," growled the Bus Driver.

"I have noticed," nodded Vlad, "But you'll find it is not his fault. That said, the garage is free if you wish to murder him."

Dr. Insano gulped.

Then there was sound of rockets, and the Rocket Car zoomed over the roof, landing in front of them with a loud 'thud.' The doors opened, and Spoony fell out of the back seat, landing face-first in the dirt. Linkara followed him, glancing at his friend on the ground.

"You're licking the dirt?" he quizzed.

"It's never tasted so _good!_" exclaimed Spoony.

Linkara shook his head as Iron Liz and Pollo got out.

"…and you're here for…what, exactly?" asked Vlad.

"The car GPS led us here," shrugged Liz, "Why?"

"This is private property," snapped Vlad, "Nobody gave you permission to come here…"

"Vladdie!"

Vlad buried his head in his hands as Jack Fenton parked the Spectre Speeder nearby and climbed out.

"_When did I give him this address?"_ moaned Vlad in anguish.

"Looks like we're apocalypse buddies, huh?" grinned Jack, putting an arm around his 'friend.'

Vlad gritted his teeth.

"How did you get here?" he demanded.

"The GPS led us here," snapped Maddie, nowhere near as accommodating as Jack, "Care to explain?"

"I have not meddled with your GPS," sighed Vlad.

Maddie raised an eyebrow.

"…recently," added Vlad.

Any further conversation was interrupted by the opening of a wormhole in the villa wall. Two soldiers, dressed in the uniforms of American GIs of World War Two, stepped through and aimed their rifles at Vlad and Jack.

"…and you are?" sighed Vlad.

Three more figures stepped through the hole, flanked by more soldiers, both American and British.

Rommel raised an eyebrow at his companions, who were looking around in nervous wonder. He walked confidently up to Vlad and extended a hand.

"Generalfeldmarschall Erwin Rommel," he introduced.

Vlad looked apprehensive for a few seconds, while Jack gave a grin at Maddie.

"Told you I called Eisenhower," he grinned. Maddie rolled her eyes.

Vlad nodded, and took Rommel's hand.

"Yes that's all quite nice," he nodded, "Now, if I may ask, _what's next in this constant parade of interruptions!_"

There was a loud crash as Zim's ship collided with the bus, causing it to explode.

Vlad facepalmed, the Bus Driver gave a horrified yelp and Dr. Insano cheered.

* * *

Vlad paced his overcrowded study, explaining the story so far.

"ReGenesis was an effort by certain individuals to create a super-soldier," he explained, "It was made with a combination of Reaper technology and magic. The project was headed by Professor Membrane and funded by the Globex Corporation, who expected a being that could tear dimensions asunder, destroy continents in the blink of an eye, and essentially achieved godlike power."

His look darkened.

"They succeeded," he snarled, "And now they're all dead."

He continued.

"Membrane was obsessed. I remember seeing him a few months earlier, with his son, Dib. He wasn't content – not at all. I think he considered the project his way of building a new, perfect son."

Vlad turned around, and looked his audience straight in the eye.

"We are most likely the last living things on Earth," he snapped, "If we want to survive this, we're going to have to co-operate."

He turned a special glare to Danny, who was giving Vlad a very murky look.

"ReGenesis may seem powerful," continued Vlad, "But it has several weaknesses. Among them, it is believed, is ectoplasm. With that said, I suggest that myself and Daniel will move as an advance guard with a unit of ghosts and Montgomery's creatures to take on ReGenesis in a decisive battle. The rest of you – think of a backup plan."

"Why Danny?" asked Maddie, suspiciously.

"Does anyone else want to co-ordinate an army of ghosts against a godlike creature?"

There was a long silence. Danny nodded, and stood up.

"You're not taking my baby boy against that…that _thing_," snapped Maddie, climbing to her feet, "At very least, Jack and I are coming."

Jack blinked.

"Uh, yeah, what she said," he nodded.

Vlad gave a curt nod.

"Very well," he decided, "You may come."

There was a knock on the door. Vlad walked over, and answered.

"You ready, boss?" Skulker asked, seriously.

Vlad gave a serious frown, and motioned for Danny, Jack, Maddie and Montgomery to follow him.

* * *

Zim, Linkara and Timmy (who had accompanied me in stowing away on Zim's ship) sat outside the villa, glancing over to Montgomery, who was looking into the distance through binoculars.

"Drat that stinky ReGenesis," snapped Zim, "He's destroying the world! That's _my_ thing!"

"Remind me again why I'm working with you," sighed Linkara.

Timmy looked over to Linkara, glancing at his holster.

"I see you've still got that Magic Gun," he noted.

"Yeah," nodded Linkara, taking it out, "It hasn't failed me yet."

"There he is," noted Montgomery, seemingly to himself.

The other three looked into the distance. Across the valley, atop a rise, stood a shadowy figure. The figure simply watched as the ghosts and legendaries surrounded him, the silhouettes of Jack, Maddie and Vlad edging up to it, ectoguns drawn.

"That's it?" demanded Zim, "_That's_ ReGenesis? _That_ destroyed your pathetic planet? You humans su-"

ReGenesis extended its arms.

The entire mountainside was blasted by a wave of red energy so powerful that the entire hillside was deforested in seconds. The legendaries and the ghosts braced as they were hit, crumbling into dust before their very eyes.

Then there was nothing, save for ReGenesis and a few dead tree-trunks.

Linkara, Zim, Timmy and Monty stared, jaws dropped.

"We…" began Zim.

"…are…" continued Timmy.

"…funked," finished Linkara.

ReGenesis walked slowly forward, heading towards the villa. Monty, pale as a ghost, gave a shaken order.

"Get inside," he snapped, "Give this to Rommel."

He handed a small, red-and-white ball to Timmy.

"But…" began Linkara.

"Go," ordered Monty.

He pulled a revolver from his pocket, shakily aiming at ReGenesis.

Timmy and Zim pulled Linkara inside, shutting the door behind them. Monty clicked the revolver and gave a breath, shutting his eyes before he fired.

* * *

Inside, chaos had erupted. Many of the two-dozen or so people to invade Vlad's villa were attempting to flee out the back, with a few trying to restore order.

"Form a line on the door," snapped Patton, "Don't let the bastard in!"

Linkara, Zim and Timmy ran up to him.

"What did you see?" demanded Patton, "Where the f**king hell is Monty?"

"He's…covering the retreat," replied Timmy.

Patton gave a nod.

"Limey bastard," he nodded to himself, "Never thought he had it in him."

He shook his head.

"Alright," he snapped, "I want my troops at the door, now! Anyone else who wants to stick around, grab a weapon. The rest of you, get upstairs and get ready for a clusterf**k!"

Linkara began to draw his Magic Gun, only to be stopped by Timmy.

"You need to give that thing to that German guy, remember," he reminded, "Someone else can stay."

"Well volunteered!" blurted Zim, throwing him the Ultra-Doom Annihilator before running upstairs.

Timmy began to complain, but then he sighed and turned around.

"Get going," he snapped to Linkara.

Linkara gave a sad nod, and followed Zim.

Patton glanced over his defenders. The World War Two soldiers, Timmy, the Nostalgia Critic, Chester and AJ were waiting nervously for ReGenesis.

Patton heard gunshots from outside, followed by a wet cracking noise. He loaded his revolver and gave a whisper.

"This is it," he chuckled to himself, "The soldier's death."

The door blasted open.

* * *

Linkara entered the back room. Downstairs, he heard the sounds of gunshots, which lasted all of thirteen seconds before they were silenced.

"OK," he said, seriously, handing the ball to Rommel, "We're gonna need to stop this thing. What've we got?"

"I've still got the Anti-Magic Tommy Gun," I replied.

"Where did you get that?" demanded the Nostalgia Critic.

"EBay," I shrugged.

"I've got my Magic Gun," nodded Linkara, "And Rommel's got…whatever's in that pokeball."

"My what?" asked Rommel, confused.

Linkara just waved it away.

"Right, I've got an idea," nodded Dr. Insano, "We shall blind ReGenesis…with _SCIENCE!_"

He pulled out the Fiddley Thing, causing the Critic, Spongebob, Sandy, Sam and the Bus Driver to wince.

"Put that thing away!" snapped Sam.

"Wait a minute," I thought, "Blinding… flash-bang grenade! We can blind it, and I'm a pretty good thrower."

"Let me guess," snapped the Critic, "You have an Anti-Magic Flash-Bang Grenade, right?"

"Well, it's not Anti-Magic," I said, sheepishly.

* * *

Linkara stood outside the back door of the room, which led to an outdoor trail up the mountain. Rommel stood next to him, the pokeball ready, while Zim stood well back, having realised that he'd given away his only weapon. The others stood at the front door, ready to fight.

The door crashed open.

I threw the grenade.

The throw was utterly pathetic, and it landed at our feet.

There was a great, white flash, and everyone in the room was blinded.

"_YOU FOOL!_" bellowed Spoony.

Rommel buried his head in his hands as the sounds of desperate shooting and crashing echoed from the room. Spoony (who had stolen the Anti-Magic Tommy Gun), Insano, Jazz, Spongebob and Sandy managed to pile out the back door – nobody else did.

"Run for your lives!" yelled Jazz.

"Wait…what about Pollo?" demanded Linkara, "What about Liz! I'm not just gonna leave…"

"RUN, WORMBABY!" bellowed Zim, dragging him behind them.

Rommel glanced at the door, before pressing the button on the ball. He threw it before him, and it erupted in a white flash.

Mew floated before him, staring down ReGenesis, who was emerging from the villa.

"You shall not pass," growled Rommel, pulling out his Luger.

* * *

The escapees reached a rocky clearing, stopping for breath on some rocks next to the pass. Linkara buried his head in his arms.

"I just…I just left them!" he exclaimed.

"Easy," reassured Sandy, "You couldn't have done anything to help."

Linkara shook his head.

"What can we do?" he lamented, "What can we possibly do against that thing?"

"Escape the planet," shrugged Zim, "Watch Earth burn while eating waffles!"

"How?" demanded Dr. Insano, "You wrecked your ship, remember?"

Zim stared.

"Oh yeah," he said at last, "Oops."

"All we can do is keep running," sighed Jazz, "We can think of something later."

"Guys…"

Spongebob pointed behind them. ReGenesis was walking slowly up the path, and they could see it clearly for the first time.

It was a small, big-headed boy with pale skin, pulsing with darkness. His eyes were sunken and pale, but they glared at them with a strange, disconcerting fire.

Zim's eyes widened.

"_Dib?_"

Dib looked at Zim, and growled in animalistic fashion.

Linkara did a double-take, remembering Vlad's speech earlier.

"_I remember seeing him a few months earlier, with his son, Dib. He wasn't content – not at all. I think he considered the project his way of building a new, perfect son."_

"…he experimented on his own son?" gasped Linkara, horrified.

"If we know who he is, we can reason with him!" grinned Spongebob, walking up to ReGenesis.

"Don't!" snapped Jazz, "There's obviously nothing left of Dib in there, you'll just…"

Spongebob offered his hand.

For five seconds, nothing happened.

"…is it working?" quizzed Spoony, confused.

His question was soon answered. ReGenesis grabbed Spongebob by the arm and smashed him against the rocks. He gave an animalistic roar, and leapt onto the poor sponge.

"_SPONGEBOB!_" bellowed Sandy.

The others averted their eyes, hearing only the sound of screaming and biting, before all was quiet again.

"Run!" yelled Dr. Insano, "Run like the wind!"

"Spongebob," gasped Sandy, shaking her head in horror, "N…no…"

She was dragged off by Jazz and Linkara, as Spoony prepared to follow.

Then, ReGenesis spoke.

"_Mortals…you are in my way."_

Spoony turned around, his face red.

"You _son of a B***H!_" he bellowed, opening up with the Tommy Gun.

Linkara shut his eyes as he ran away, before the firing stopped, leaving eerie silence.

* * *

Zim, Linkara, Sandy, Jazz and Dr. Insano reached a cliff, in an area where the snow still lay. There was nowhere left to run. From their vantage point, they could see far into the distance – everything, the trees, the animals, the plant life, everything was dead.

"It's the end of the world," breathed Jazz, "Everybody's dead."

"Oh, _now_ you notice!" snapped Dr. Insano.

Sandy sat on the ground, curled into a ball and cried, Jazz sitting next to her with a hopeless expression on her face. Dr. Insano looked at his feet, and Linkara shook his head, completely lost at what to do. Only Zim maintained any coherence, looking to be deep in thought.

At last, he spoke.

"I wonder if I can ask him for pointers?"

There was the sound of footsteps in the snow, and ReGenesis stepped forward, crossing his arms as he reached the escapees.

"_It's over_," he snarled.

Linkara gave him a sad glance.

"I know what you're feeling," he said, softly, "Your father tried to meld you into something your not, and you tried to take revenge."

He looked at his gun.

"But you don't need to, anymore," he continued, "Professor Membrane's gone, _everyone's gone!_…but you can fix it. You have the power."

He looked ReGenesis in the eye.

"Please."

ReGenesis gave a roar and extended his arms.

Linkara was thrown back, right off the cliff. Dr. Insano watched, before pulling out the Fiddley Thing and pointing it at ReGenesis. The monster thrust out his fist, and Insano clutched his chest, falling lifeless to the snow.

ReGenesis turned to Jazz and Sandy, waving his hand in their direction. The earth shook, and their part of the ground snapped from the cliff. They fell.

ReGenesis turned to Zim, an unpleasant grin on his face.

"_It's just me and you, Zim_," he growled.

Zim blinked.

"Well, this is bad," he gulped, "Err…parley?"

ReGenesis roared, and raised his arms.

"Now, that's not particularly fair, isn't it?"

ReGenesis and Zim turned, to find a lone man walking up the pass, his overcoat blowing in the cold breeze.

"If you kill him, you're all alone," the man explained, "And let me tell you, you don't want to be alone."

"_Who are you?_" demanded ReGenesis, an infuriated scowl on his face.

The man grinned, and shrugged.

"You humans are an odd lot," he shrugged.

"_Yes, I can see it now!" he laughed, "First Fanfiction, then the WORLD! AHAHAHA…"_

"_What are you doing?"_

"Your ideas…"

_Calamitous scratched his chin, an idea formulating in his head._

"…your emotions…"

_**DF: **__But I…I just watched. It-it took all my willpower to bring that [PROFANITY REMOVED] in alive…I just wanted to cap her right there and then._

"…your ingenuity…"

"_See," grinned Mr. Krabs, looking at his handiwork, "You can do anything with enough sticky tape and glue!"_

"…even your darkness," the man finished, seriously.

"_Because it was fun," it replied, "And these kind of people deserve it, don't they?"_

The man began to pace, speaking casually to ReGenesis.

"Sometimes, you can be stupid. I mean, _really_ stupid."

"_Oh my god," I gasped, "You scammed my scam, you magnificent bastard!"_

"You mess with things that shouldn't be messed with…"

_It's dead, alright…but dead gods can still dream._

"…you write things that shouldn't be written."

…_here's a little critique of another of E350's old shames," he grinned, nastily, "This is the Nickdale Tales Episode Two: Pizza and Stuff. Enjoy."_

The man gave ReGenesis a dark look.

"Sometimes you pay dearly for it," he warned.

_Getting up from her seat and dashing to the bathroom, Sandy cowered over her sink and looked in the mirror._

"_Why am thinking about that stuff?" she demanded, "What the heck's wrong with me?"_

The man stopped, and gave a grin.

"But humans!" he exclaimed, "You can improvise!"

"_OH MY GOD, WORDS HAVE APPEARED!" I yelled._

"You can be heroes!"

"_Students!" the Principal declared, "You are standing in the shadow of the three of the greatest superhumans in our history."_

"You can stand against anything!"

_She began to glow, as did the entire crowd of copies. They turned into light and began to combine. We watched in horror as they formed into a single body, a single Witch Ember, ten times her normal size and towering over my house like a…really big person._

"…and you can kill," he man finished, his face falling.

_Hitler marched about the room, throwing accusations out seemingly at random. As he had his tantrum, Chester caught a glimpse at the report on the table._

"You can go from compassion and humour…"

_It's the Anti-Depression Song,  
Find your own tune and sing along,  
When everything is just going wrong,  
Sing the Anti-Depression Song!_

"…to absolute cruelty and destruction."

_Behind him, he heard the high pitched wail of an air-raid siren, and the crowds around him erupted into panic._

"…_uh, it seems like an attack is inevitable," he stammered, "We-we'd like…the thirty-minute warning is-is now in eff-effect."_

_Lance hurriedly dotted down orders for the population at home, shaking more and more every second, until at last, he was openly weeping on screen._

"_I…I just want to thank…thank you all," he shuddered, "And…and to my daughter…I want you to kn_

The man looked ReGenesis in the eye.

"Humans," he stated, philosophically, "You're poor…"

_This is Chester A. Bum saying…CHANGE? YA GOT SOME CHANGE? COME ON, HELP A GUY OUT, WILL YA? COME ON, CHANGE?_

"…you're rich…"

_The Prosperity Party was headed by Vlad Masters, and ran on a platform of national richness, increased employment…and a healthy dose of election fraud._

"…and you'll all unite against any evil. And you'll triumph!"

"_One question," I asked, "Isn't hanging out the side of a car hanging fifty-odd feet in the air a bit dangerous?"_

"_Don't you know it!" grinned Sandy, "Get ready!"_

"Sure, you have some nutters among you…"

"_I am good at making a façade," shrugged Lancer, "Let's put this simply; Private…I'm raising a god."_

"…but you'll adapt to anything!"

"_I'm a…werecat?" she mused._

_Sam blinked._

"_Awesome!" she cheered, raising her hands in the air._

"You'll stand united against oppression…"

_Before long, Spongebob, Patrick and Sandy had joined in. The soldiers became confused, anxious and irritated as the frenzy of rock throwing spread through the crowd. Before too long, even Wanda had joined in._

"…no matter how idiotic you can be!"

"_Long story short, the Ashanti rebelled, a war broke out, and three thousand people died."_

_The Critic paused._

"_This happened over a f**king stool!"_

The man beamed, somewhat proudly.

"You're heroes!"

_It's all normal, all well and good,  
But they know something rather crazy,  
That this town's protected from all evil,  
By its own hero…Mecha-Sandy._

"You're artists!"

_I counted sixteen instances of sexualisation and one blockage. There are twenty-four results on the page._

"You survive everything!"

_Machine gun rounds ripped through the squad of troops, tearing them apart. Danny cringed and yelped as several rounds hit him in the torso, sending him sliding back into the dirt._

The man stopped grinning, now giving ReGenesis a pleading look.

"So please," he begged, "No matter what you've seen…"

_This is…I'm gonna need a lot of soufflé to block out this._

"…no matter what they've done…"

_Membrane stands over a tank, waiting for it to open. He has a crazed look, his eyes heavy and bagged. Around him, exhausted scientists and security guards watch, waiting._

"…you're still human."

_Squidward held on for dear life as the Giant Death Wallaby hopped down the road at high speed, Dr. Insano laughing manically as he steered._

"Don't destroy your world…"

"_Residents of the Dakotas, Iowa, Missouri, Arkansas and Minnesota are now on high alert, with likely infestation within the next few hours…"_

"…save it."

_An eldritch abomination is just like any other monster – only much bigger. They can also break your mind, your property and your planet._

The man stopped talking.

ReGenesis – Dib fell to his knees.

"What have I done?" he gasped, horrified.

"You kinda destroyed the world," replied Zim, unhelpfully.

The man walked up to Dib, and put his hand on his shoulder.

"You can still fix it, Dib," he reassured, "Do what humans do best."

He gave a huge smile.

"Be _magnificent._"

Dib looked up, and save a serious nod. He held up his hands, and bellowed out.

"_LET THERE BE LIGHT!"_

And there was light.

* * *

Sandy opened her eyes.

She was lying in the snow, next to the cliff. Didn't she fall off that cliff?

She sat up and looked around. The area around her was lush and alive with plant life again. Linkara, Dr. Insano, Jazz and Zim were looking around, confused…

…and Dib lay on the ground, unmoving.

"Well, he restored the Earth," shrugged Zim, "Big deal."

He picked up a stick, and poked Dib.

"Wake up, you stupid worm baby, I want to fight you!" he snapped.

Dib didn't move.

"Dib," growled Zim, "Get up."

Dib still didn't move. Zim poked him even harder, getting angrier and angrier.

"Come on, you big-headed fool," he demanded, "Get up! Get up or I'll doom you!"

Sandy looked at her feet as Zim kept poking.

"Dib, you idiot, get up! Come on, get up! _GET UP!"_

From a short way down the trail back to the villa, the Doctor looked back for a few seconds. He shook his head sadly, and continued to walk.

Not everybody lived.

**The End.**

* * *

I turned on my chair, looking towards the camera.

"Well, gee, that was sad," I shrugged.

I shook my head.

"Well guys," I shrugged, "It's over. It got a bit long-winded towards the end there, but meh. Dues Ex Time Lord, can't say I've ever seen it done."

"Anyway," I grinned, "I'd like to thank you all for reading this. I could not have done it without your support and your generous reviews. They really make me feel better."

I rubbed my chin.

"I _could_ just thank you and be done with it," I mused, "But that wouldn't be good enough. Instead, I feel it's time for a musical number. Hit it lads!"

The camera panned to Spongebob, Zim, Danny and Timmy on various musical instruments, and they started to play. I grinned, and picked up a microphone.

ME: Proposition, Ritual,

DANNY: Robot, Situational,

SPONGEBOB: Wagon Trail, Dark Side,

EMBER: Scammers in Scammicide.

AJ: London Reaper, Riffing,

SANDY: Indoctrination, Padding,

LINKARA: Super school, Ember's rule,

MONTGOMERY: Monty's got some Legendaries!

ALL (yes, that includes you): _We didn't start October,  
It's some science glee,  
And we don't have degrees,  
We didn't start October,  
But one thing can be told,  
Because it's all E3's fault._

DANI: Pick-me-up, World War Three,

CARTOONIAC: Bum Reviews, History,

ZIM: Really Big Irken Guns,

VICKY: Port Arthur Convict Gods,

INSANO: Insano's banned from a bus,

SAM: Trouble in the Gold Rush,

NOSTALGIA CRITIC: Stupid people, Mecha-Sandy,

TIMMY: DeviantArt Crapography,

MOVIE-BRAT: Immortals, crappy stuff,

ZIM'SMOSTLOYALSERVANT: ReGenesis and Aussie Pubs,

SPOONY: Universes, Public Service,

DIB: END OF THE WORLD!

ALL: _We didn't start October,  
It's some science glee,  
And we don't have degrees,  
We didn't start October,  
But one thing can be told,  
Because it's all E3's fault._

_We didn't start October,  
It's some science glee,  
And we don't have degrees,  
We didn't start October,  
But one thing can be told,  
Because it's all E3's fault._

"In all seriousness," I grinned, "Thanks, thanks to all of you! Now one more verse!"

_ALL: We didn't start October,  
It's some science glee,  
And we don't have degrees,  
We didn't start October,  
But one thing can be told,  
Because it's all E3's fault!

* * *

_

FINAL STATISTICS:

31 Chapters.

149 Pages.

1,216 Hits.

5 Faves.

1 Alert.

49,831 Words.

201,020 Characters (without spaces).

Approx. 93 Hours of Work.

One Exhausted Author.


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